Ratchet and Clank Future: Override
by Paul G
Summary: Greetings! A new story from my Leonid series, we continue from where Mortality the bonus microstory appended to Relativity left off. Life goes on for Ratchet and his friends... Please read the disclaimer chapter for more information.
1. Disclaimers

**Disclaimers:**

Welcome to my third full fanfic. Sit down, relax, grab a cold beverage from the chiller, read about the ground rules...

a) Ratchet, Clank, their entire universe and everything in it are copyright and trademark by Sony, Insomniac Games and High Impact Games. Palindrone Robot Supply is a creation of CreatureBox (dot) com. Both are used without permission in this story.

b) Special thanks to 007 Sims Man for prodding me to actually write this story down and for listening to and commenting on my random rants about R&C and gaming in general. These discussions and answering his questions opened up whole new aspects of the characters and their universe.

c) The term "manifestor" was coined by Hatoshi (a.k.a. Stephen Stryker). I have used the term, and the general concept behind the technology with his permission.

d) Any other characters, constructs, devices, mythologies, social conventions, medical or engineering implements that are in this story that are not the property of Sony, Insomniac Games, Inc., High Impact Games and CreatureBox (dot) com are my own constructs. Personally, I can't see why anyone would ever really want to reuse them, but if you do you really should ask first. It's polite.

e) This story is based on the rest of my Leonid Stories (Homecoming, Relativity, Instincts, Registration, Bait and Mortality). I wrote the rough plot outline between 29 August and 6 September 2009, and wrote the story text between 6 September and 19 October 2009. It took a little longer than normal due to 'real life' getting in the way. Recommended reading order: Homecoming; Relativity; Instincts; Registration; Bait; Mortality; Override. I did my traditional proof reads and embellishment edits, but as everyone knows, not even the pros catch every typo.

f) This story takes place approximately one month after Mortality, just over two years after the end of Tools of Destruction. The canon plotline from IG and mine diverged with the release of Quest for Booty. I make no apologies for this, nor will I adjust the stories to try to resynchronize them. So Ratchet has no idea who Angstrom Darkwater is, and I (as author) have not played A Crack In Time yet when this story was written.

g) I am not a professional writer, and I do not claim to be able to write either well or coherently. It is merely a minor amusement, a side story to while away the time...

h) All other standard disclaimers from my previous stories apply. As always I reserve the right to edit or tweak the text as I see fit and want to improve or correct it, or to delete it at any time for any reason. So, for your entertainment...

i) Enjoy!

* * *


	2. Prologue

**Prologue: The Hunt Begins**

An uneasy quiet hung heavily over the barren dusty landscape. Even the cerullean swarmers and centipedes native to the Nundac Asteroid Ring seemed unnaturally still in the soft starlight and faint shadows. Fortunately, none of them were on this tiny, nameless chunk of rock that could give away the presence of the lone lombax, lying as still as possible, hidden beneath a camouflage blanket on the surface of the asteroid. Off in the distance, hovering just out of range of most handheld weapons, a basilisk leviathan gracefully moved its way between the smaller chunks of stone, feeding on them and on the smaller swarmers that dwelled there. As the leviathan moved closer, the lombax ever so slowly pulled a long barreled weapon from beneath the camouflage, carefully sighted on the creature in the distance and slowly squeezed the trigger. A small projectile shot from the device, propelled by a powerful and silent electromagnetic field. The leviathan continued to move for a few heartbeats, then it suddenly convulsed, twisting itself as though searching for an unseen attacker. After nearly a full minute, the leviathan resumed its previous path, gliding slowly away from the asteroid and moving outward toward open space.

After the creature was finally out of range, the lombax began to stir. Looking carefully at her left glove, Jasmine Parallax, the lombax ambassador to Polaris (and, consequently, the rest of this dimension), adjusted the control crystals, activating the tracking mechanism she had just implanted on the rogue leviathan. Within seconds, the homing beacon relayed its signal, along with a series of status messages and a health check of the host beast. Jaz smiled; she had been researching the nesting patterns and habits of the leviathans in the area surrounding the Apogee Station for just over two years now. When this young, untagged male wandered into the territory of the herd around the station, she was naturally very curious where it originated from and if it would integrate with the group. Jaz hoped that it would be accepted by the herd, but personally suspected that it would one day have a confrontation with Maelstrom, the alpha male. Either way, she would be able to add valuable data on the life cycles of these giant creatures.

Slowly climbing to her feet, Jaz stretched enthusiastically. She had been lying motionless for almost five hours now, ignoring the cramping in her muscles, trying to lure the young leviathan closer; it felt good to be able to get up and move around again. Looking around the small hunk of floating rock that made up this 'storeroom' for the beta asteroid group, Jaz went through a slow, stylized series of movements based on her favorite lombax hand-to-hand fighting technique. Her graceful motions as she maneuvered about on the tiny rock loosened her muscles and brought a slight grin to her muzzle; she loved the thrill of the hunt and combat in general, and this workout was something that always made her smile.

Jaz finished her routine, carefully gathered all of her tracking and hunting gear, packed it away into her manifestor and selected her swingshot. Looking out over the edge of the asteroid, she saw the pair of versa-targets hovering in the distance leading her back to the beta asteroid. Her gaze drifted further out, well beyond the asteroid ring, to the pirate ship parked stationary among the stars. Jaz knew why they were there and her good mood began to dissolve away; it always irritated her having them so close to the station.

After the surrender of the drophyds to the Lombax Central Council, the LCC decided to put the pirates to work 'doing something useful' for them. Because the robots had an innate love of treasure and lombax technology particularly, a treaty had somehow been formed (without her being aware of it) with the pirate captain. The captain had set his ships to the task of guarding Zaurik, the drophyd home world, patrolling the planetary system and enforcing the conditions the drophyds had accepted when they surrendered to the lombaxes. They had been required to return any lombax technology, and the pirates were set as watchdogs to confiscate anything of lombax origin they caught the drophyds using.

Jaz had to admit that it worked out pretty well, but after a while it got a bit dull for the bored pirates. Every now and then, one of their ships, typically commanded by the second in command known only as 'Rusty Pete' would wander away from Zaurik and the standard shipping lanes to park outside the Nundac Asteroid Ring. Jaz knew they wouldn't dare attack, but having them so close bothered her, knowing that they were watching, dreaming of plunder and fingering their weapons, held back only by The Code of the Pirates and their allegiance to their 'Dread Captain'. And while she had never met their captain before, she had to respect any being capable of instilling such fear and respect among the salty crew. Pete had spoken almost reverently about his Dread Captain and Jaz promised herself that one day she would ask Pete to introduce them. But that would mean getting close to Pete, and the stench of grog on his clothing and his exhaust was enough to make her retch. Glaring out at the ship, she also wished she knew who the 'genius' was on the LCC that came up with this whole idea, so she could thank them properly: preferably with the business end of a large hammer.

Her thoughts of mayhem were suddenly broken, however; there was something unusual about the pirate ship that caught her attention. She thought she saw a sudden, tiny flare of light, as though something had been launched towards her. At first, Jaz did not think anything of it, until she saw it a second time. Manifesting her viewfinder, she looked closely at the hull of the ship, tracing up and down the sleek lines of the nautically stylized vessel. Even though it had been parked there for almost a week, there had been no communication at all between the pirates and the station. That was not terribly unusual, so it had not drawn her attention before. But ... there! Another tiny flare of light. But it was not from the weapons as she had initially feared. That was a life pod launching! And another one!

Jaz lowered her viewfinder, staring at the ship in the distance with her unaided eyes. As she watched, the ship seemed to shudder slightly. There was a flare of a small explosion near the engine room and the thruster array. A glowing fissure formed, spread along the hull and the entire vessel seemed to split into three large fragments. There was a sudden flash of energy from the crack and the fragments detached from each other, continuing to break up as the forces inside the ship tore it asunder. In the light of the explosion, Jaz could clearly see nearly a dozen life pods, slowly making their way towards the station under inertial thruster power only, approaching the deadly hazards of the asteroid ring with minimal guidance or deflectors.

Without a second thought, Jaz dropped the viewfinder to the ground. Her swingshot already on her glove, Jaz made her way as quickly as she could back to the beta asteroid and to the teleport cannon that was located there. She thought of the survivors in their life pods, drifting slowly closer to the crushing death offered by the asteroid ring... Hopefully it was not already too late.

* * *


	3. Chapter 01

**Chapter 1: A Friendly Game**

Ratchet scowled, growling slightly as he stared intently at the polymer panels carefully concealed in his gloved hands. Each panel held a specific numeric value (ranging from zero to nine) and a specific symbol (gears, wrenches, hammers or components). Ratchet held a four of gears, a four of wrenches, a seven of gears and a seven of components. With three more panels left to play, he had a rather significant probability (in his mind, anyway) of revealing another three or seven, given him an extremely powerful, and likely winning, combination. Glancing quickly at Clank sitting across from him, he hoped that his partner would give him some indication as to what was on those three panels, carefully arranged with their markings down in front of him.

Nicholas Neutrino, sitting on his left, caught Ratchet's quick glance. "Forget it," Nick said, chuckling to the frustrated lombax. "Clank's a pro. I don't care how long you've been traveling together, he's not gonna give ya any hints that we won't see too."

Ratchet glared at his friend, comfortably lounging sideways in his chair with one arm draped over the backrest, knees over the armrest and his bare feet dangling to Ratchet's left. Nick's three panels lay haphazardly perched on top of a sizable pile of bolts gathered in front of him. Whatever he might say, Ratchet knew that Nick was the real pro at this game. Petrov's son had such a calm aura of competence that it was extremely difficult to outguess or outplay him in partner poker. Ratchet knew that Clank was the only one that could really outmaneuver his 'brother', if all things were equal.

Fortunately, Ratchet had another option. He glanced over to his right and stared at his adopted father, Petrov. The older lombax sat with his four panels tightly clenched in his gloved hands. His muzzle was tense and his ears and tail were carefully neutral, neither perked nor drooped. Ratchet had to hand it to Petrov, this level of physical control was actually very difficult for a lombax to maintain for very long; it required a lot of concentration and effort to keep their extremities from broadcasting their emotions. But Ratchet was not watching Petrov's ears or tail; instead Ratchet was staring into Petrov's eyes, currently a somewhat overcast sky blue with a hint of grey. Ratchet smiled slightly. He may not know what was in Petrov's glove, but he knew that Petrov wasn't happy about it.

Petrov noticed Ratchet's stare and carefully placed his panels, markings down, on the table in front of him. Deliberately staring back, he grumbled, "What?" before taking a sip from the flask of sludge resting on the table next to his pile of bolts.

Ratchet grinned. It was nice to see that Petrov had fully recovered from his rather serious bout with Genetic Breakdown Disease, or GBD as they referred to it on New Fastoon. The retired general had spent the last four weeks regaining his strength and gradually returning to normal. His visible fur looked shiny and healthy; at least as shiny and healthy as was possible in the light from the single active overhead illumination filament. "Just glad t' see that yer feelin' better."

Petrov broke off his stare, relaxed and chuckled a little himself. "Yeah," he said, "I feel a helluva lot better too. I didn't realize how bad it got. I shoulda gotten checked when I first noticed. But it didn't seem all that big a deal." Petrov glanced around the apartment, and Ratchet could not help but follow his gaze.

Petrov's apartment, located near the Region 9 office of the Lombax Defense Ministry, had not changed at all since Ratchet first saw it nearly two years ago. The best description that Ratchet had ever heard of the place came from Talwyn as she looked around in shocked sadness and declared the place the archeological discovery of the decade. Ratchet could certainly understand why.

Petrov came from one of the oldest and most respected surviving lombax families, and there was a casual opulence throughout the apartment. The tables, chairs and furnishings were all of the highest quality thorntree wood, carefully cut to showcase the grain and beauty of the material. The woodwork was a superior quality, with thick, heavy construction as though meant to last for multiple generations. The seats were finely crafted out of softened leviathan leather. There was not a trace of metal, polymer or other, more common materials within sight. The illumination filament above the table was surrounded by cut carbon crystal, casting multihued fragments of light around the small room. Over in a side alcove, an impressive array of display tablets, audio, video and gaming gear was arranged in a cockpit style around a single, heavily padded (and rather worn looking) leather recliner. Another alcove held a workbench, with a half-assembled alpha cannon firmly locked into place with a set of permagrips. Tools were spread out near the alpha cannon, along with a specifications manual for customizing and upgrading the weapon. An overhead magnifier and pantograph floated on a set of axial stabilizers, to assist with high detail and microscopic work.

Ratchet took it all in, but the thing that struck him the most about Petrov's apartment was an overall sense of melancholy about the place. With the exception of this gaming table and the recliner in the alcove, the entire apartment, filled with enough wealth and toys to make even a lombax notice, appeared as though it has been abandoned to time and to memory. Most of the bedrooms were completely empty, hollow shells with only the master suite having any furniture at all. That room appeared to have been Petrov's and Cynthia's quarters, with curios from his wife still prominently on display.

Ratchet knew for a fact that Cynthia had never made it through the portal, but he also knew from Reg and the twins that Petrov had painstakingly recreated the chamber exactly as it had been when they lived together on Fastoon. It looked as though everything had been set up over two decades ago and that nothing had been disturbed in that room since, except for a small chunk of raritanium carved in the shape of a gear tooth that had been carefully placed next to a still image of a much younger Petrov and Cynthia posing happily beneath the plaza monument on Fastoon. Ratchet had actually seen the room only once: when Petrov was in the med center and asked Ratchet and Nicholas to 'pick up a few things' for him to do while recovering. Nick had deliberately overridden the security codes and showed Ratchet the bedroom despite his father's stern instructions to only retrieve specific items from around the recliner. That one look was enough to permanently burn it into the lombax's memory. That, and the reactions of both Clank and Talwyn when he described it to them later. Clank seemed extremely confused by the situation, turned in early and was on the hyperD network to Solana for hours before beginning a research binge on the hyperband. Talwyn had retreated into their bedroom; Ratchet went in to find her near tears - she grabbed him and held him tightly to her almost all night before finally drifting off into an exhausted and fitful sleep.

As for the rest of the apartment, the bathroom was only slightly less dangerous to use than Ratchet's Black Hole Bathroom Buddy. The prep center was stacked with empty takeout containers from Jacek's and various other vendors. Of everything in the publicly accessible areas of the apartment, the saddest of all was probably the dining room table: four place settings arranged for Petrov, Cynthia, Nicholas and Nichole, with a small vase of desiccated blooms in the center. A thick layer of dust, shed fur and memories blanketed the place settings, the blooms, the table and practically all of the visible surfaces in the apartment (except their gaming table and the recliner in the alcove) with a grayish-tan haze, giving the apartment suite the unusual look of a faded, sepia tone print image. Every time Ratchet visited Petrov's apartment, he could not get over a sense of profound sadness that hung heavily in the air. No wonder Petrov spent most of his time in the council chamber these days or in the office when he was Regional Minister.

Nicholas noticed Ratchet's gaze wandering around the apartment and his own eyes darkened to the deep green of leaves in shadow. "Dad," he said, "You really should move inta my place in the Estate. I'm not there most o' the time and it's plenty big enough. Lotsa windows 'n sunlight..." Nick's voice trailed off as Petrov shook his head silently, not commenting, but the grey suddenly filling his narrowing eyes spoke volumes. "Okay..." Nick sighed, carefully backing off and trying a slightly different approach. "At least you might wanna redecorate... hire a cleaning bot. I don't think anything's moved around here since I was a kit..."

Petrov's eyes darkened further. He immediately stood from the table and walked over to the main entrance to the apartment. Hesitating for a moment, Petrov suddenly yanked it open wide. Outside the door, two LDM deputies were chatting about holovid aspect ratios - Tim Resonance and another lombax that Ratchet did not recognize. Drawing himself up to his full height, Petrov glared out the door at the two deputies waiting there. "Don't you have anything better to do?" he barked in a commanding voice that only the retired general could manage.

Both Tim and the other guard turned to the door with guilty expressions on their faces. One look at the general's eyes told them all they needed to know: Petrov was in a bad and dangerous mood, and if they were not careful, they would be running through Ratchet's latest 'training routine', a.k.a. 'deathcourse' in the Doom Dome. Tim, being far braver (or less wary) than his cohort responded carefully, "Minister, we are instructed to stand guard for both yourself and for Minister Ratchet. Regional Minister Quantum ordered us to remain with you. We apologize if we disturbed you."

Petrov turned Tim's response over and over in his mind, trying to find something, anything, to be angry about, but failed. Finally with a sigh, Petrov said, "Nah. It's jus' me. Go back t' whatever you were doin'." As Petrov turned back to the apartment, Ratchet could see the relief clearly visible on the faces of the two deputies before the door closed.

Nick sighed sadly, staring at his father. "I just want ya t' be happy," he said quietly. "Didja hafta do that?"

Petrov chuckled, feeling a lot better having vented his frustrations. "I know," he said. "Thanks. I appreciate it. But ya gotta remember, this is my home. And, yeah, I had t' do that. It doesn't work on you anymore, and Ratchet'd prob'bly enjoy it."

"They are merely performing their assigned tasks," Clank commented, vaguely puzzled by Petrov's outburst. "While the council rescinded the requirement for you to wear a tracer, the Lombax Defense Ministry still requires that all Ministers be guarded at all times. It is for your own well being."

Clank was right. After he had pointed out to Spiff and the other council members that the purpose behind the tracers had already been fulfilled, the LCC was very quick to take up a special vote. In a unanimous agreement, all of the councilors voted to abolish the policy, and the ministers no longer had to wear tracers wherever they went.

This was a great improvement, but it did not last long. As soon as Rich heard, he convened his own meeting with the other regional ministers and the heads of the LDM. They decided that, while the ministers no longer needed to be tracked, they did require 'protection'. Protection from what, they did not really specify. But from that point on, a minimum of one deputy was assigned to follow each of the ministers, no matter where they went. Sometimes this surveillance was covert, with the deputy out of sight and forgotten. Other times, the deputy walked with the minister, acting as both bodyguard and guide. Ratchet personally suspected that, at least in his case, it was a bit of both. Rich or Tim usually accompanied him on various errands and travels around New Fastoon, but every now and then he would catch a glimpse of someone suspicious trailing him. The first time it happened he spun, manifested his combustor and almost fired before Tim stopped him. Since then, Ratchet's followers were either a lot more careful or a lot more blatant about it, trying not to surprise the seasoned veteran. Still, as Ratchet reached down and rubbed at his suddenly itchy right ankle, it was a lot better than the tracers - Clank could not have given him a better 'birthday' gift.

"I know," Petrov replied. "But I'm not sure if this is better or worse."

Wanting to redirect the topic, Ratchet gestured for Petrov to resume his place at the gaming table. "Did Reg say anything when he contacted you?" he asked.

Petrov returned to his seat and picked up the panels in front of him, carefully rearranging them in his hands. "Just what I told ya before," he began. "Mel went into labor a few hours ago. He said he'd call when he could."

Nick's eyes drifted lighter and he grinned at Ratchet, thankful for the change in topic. A knowing smirk slowly filled Nick's face as he muttered, "It's a female."

Both Ratchet and Clank began to chuckle. They had been there a month ago when Nick made a similar prediction over dinner. Petrov however looked at his son with a slightly puzzled expression on his face. "How d' ya know?"

Ratchet laughed even harder. "Nichole told us all about it. It's a fifty-fifty guess..."

"Not this time," Nick interrupted, drawling slowly. "I hacked Nikki's files. She's a female."

There was a moment of stunned silence. Petrov looked at Nicholas, a strange mix of pride, pity and concern in his eyes, and very cautiously warned his son, "If she ever finds out you hacked her, she's gonna kill you."

Nick leaned back even farther in the chair, swinging his feet slightly. With an amused grin, he slowly drawled, "She knows already; I told 'er myself!" Looking sharply up and meeting his father's shocked gaze, Nick continued, "It was payback! She asked me t' fix dinner fer her, Rich 'n me the other day. What she somehow forgot t' tell me over the link was that she invited a 'friend', 'n spent the entire evening tryin' t' fix me up with her."

Petrov started laughing. Hard. His eyes lightened significantly to azure as he looked into Nick's face. Nick twisted around in his chair, sitting upright with his feet on the floor. "Seriously! It was like walkin' into an ambush!"

Both Ratchet and Clank could not help but chuckle at this. Petrov was roaring with laughter. After a few moments, his laughter faded a bit and he said, "She jus' has yer best interests at heart. She doesn't wanna see ya end up like me." The laughter faded from the table. Petrov's ears fell a little when he realized what he had just said. "Sorry 'bout that," he said, still with a bit of a grin on his muzzle. "Ya know what I meant. She jus' wants t' see ya settle down, get bonded 'n raise some kits o' yer own..."

Nick rolled his eyes in exasperation, shaking his head slowly. Clank looked over to Petrov. "If Reg is with Melody in the medical center," he said, "where is Justin?" Ratchet nodded; when the topic of kits came up, he started wondering about that too.

"Justin is spending the day with Zeke," Petrov began. "Reg was supposed to pick him up in an hour or two. Depending on how things go with the birth and normalization, I might be sitting. I'm on standby, just in case."

"Normalization?" Ratchet asked. He had thought that his studies in lombax life and history were nearly complete after two years on New Fastoon. But he had never heard this term before.

Nick chuckled. "After a female gives birth it takes her endocrine system time to readjust," he explained. "While that's happening, her normal unpredictability goes up... Big time... By a power o' ten..."

Petrov laughed. Looking over to Ratchet, he corrected Nicholas' assessment slightly. "Basically, Nick's sorta right. I'll let Mel or Nichole 'correct' him about the 'normal unpredictability' part..." Nicholas cringed slightly at the thought of that. Petrov continued, "But her moods do change and magnify." A leering grin crept over Petrov's face. "Last time," he said, "when Justin was born, Reg told me Mel wanted him, uh, 'close by'. I mean _real close_! She lured him inta their bedroom, welded the lock shut 'n kept 'im there, without rest, fer forty hours straight. By the time she normalized, he was so exhausted he almost needed t' go t' the med center himself."

The room exploded with laughter as Clank and all three lombaxes imagined the Lombax Prime Minister held prisoner by his (rather dangerous even under normal circumstances) wife. "No wonder he was so tired when I contacted him and asked how the delivery went," Nick said when he could finally speak.

"I think he's tryin' t' prepare himself," Ratchet added. "Fer the last month, Reg's been running the invasion simulation with me ev'ry morning. Training. He kept sayin' he wanted t' 'build up his stamina'... He never said fer what, though..."

More laughter as Ratchet's voice trailed off. Clank observed, "Maybe Reg was preparing himself..."

"Hopin' for a repeat performance," Petrov interrupted. Shaking his head through the laughter, he continued, "But ya never know. Every female's different, 'n every kit's different. I got off lucky, all Cynthia wanted was soft music and dim lights."

Glancing quickly at his panels, Petrov looked at Ratchet and wagered fifty bolts. (It was not a high stakes game, merely enough to make it more interesting.) Ratchet quickly matched Petrov's fifty bolts and added one hundred of his own. Petrov stared at Nick, looking for some sign if his son held complementary panels on his side of the table, then pushed the additional one hundred bolts to the center of the table. "Okay," he said, "Let's see whatcha got..."

Ratchet and Petrov turned over their four panels each. Petrov held four hammers (the one, three, five and eight). On its own, Petrov's hand was fairly weak, but there were three additional panels that he could use from Nick's pile. If Nick held another hammer, it would be stronger than Ratchet's two pair alone, but weaker if Clank held a four or seven... It was still anyone's hand.

Ratchet counted out one hundred bolts, or one quarter of the bank. (It had been twenty-five bolts each to start, Petrov's first fifty, Ratchet's match, Ratchet's hundred and Petrov's match.) He moved the bolts to his own pile, having won the first, lesser stage of the game. Then he looked over at Nicholas and Clank. It all depended on what they had in their possession. Clank began the betting. "One hundred," he said, counting out the bolts and adding them to the center. Ratchet, as Clank's partner, was required to match that or forfeit, so he pushed the stack he had just counted back to the center as well.

Nicholas stared intently at Clank, watching for any sign of what the robot held. Suddenly Nick seemed very pleased with himself. "Your hundred," he said, "and a hundred more." Nick pushed two hundred bolts into the center and looked across to his father, nodding with a smile on his face.

Petrov looked a Nicholas a little concerned, but counted out the required two hundred bolts and pushed them to the center of the table.

Clank grinned slightly. "Your hundred," he said, pushing a large quality of bolts to the bank, "plus an additional two hundred." Three hundred bolts! Granted, it was not enough for Ratchet to even upgrade his combustors properly, but in this game it was a lot. Clank was playing very carefully, not giving away any sign of what he held. Whatever it was, Ratchet knew his part in this. The lombax grinned, eagerly counted out the bolts and pushed them to the center. He looked over at Petrov and smiled .

Nicholas was not dismayed. He did not even look at Clank, he was that certain of himself. "Your two hundred," he said, counting out the bolts, "and four hundred more..."

Petrov gasped, his eyes somewhat dark and grey as he watched Nick push the bolts to the center. Nick nodded to him, muttering, "Do it, dad. Come'on..."

Ratchet stared into Petrov's eyes. "Yeah, dad," he said, teasing the older lombax. "Clank and I could use the cash." He took a few sips of his own flask of sludge. It tasted vile, of course, and it was getting a little cold, but the sludge was still nice and strong.

Petrov's eyes drifted to the dwindling pile of bolts in front of him. Out of all of the players at the game table, his was the smallest, having lost a number of hands before this. Petrov looked over at Clank, closed his eyes, steeled himself and pushed the required bolts to the center.

Clank did not hesitate and responded immediately. "Your four hundred, plus another six hundred."

Ratchet choked slightly on the sludge. He carefully put the flask down and counted out the bolts. He really hoped Clank was right...

Nick again did not hesitate. "I think your bluffing," he said. "I'll match you." He pushed another six hundred to the center. All eyes fell on Petrov to see if he would match the bet as well.

The tips of Petrov's ears were twitching as he looked at the four panels in front of him. Glancing up in to Nick's eager face, Petrov began to shake his head, doubtful of the potential outcome. Looking over to Clank, he mumbled, "Nick thinks yer bluffin'..."

Clank met Petrov's gaze. In an extremely calm voice, Clank replied, "Would you care to test that hypothesis?"

Petrov paused for a few heartbeats and then said, "No." He reached over, picked his tiles up and tossed them into the center. Ratchet felt a moment of exhilaration (and extreme relief!) as Clank pulled the stack of bolts towards him and began splitting it in two even piles, one for himself, one for Ratchet.

Nick shook his head and turned over his panels. He _did_ have a fifth hammer, the nine. "Didja have it?" he asked.

Clank did not stop counting. "I am not required to provide that information," he said evenly.

"Aw, come on," Nick said as he reached across the pile of bolts and flipped over the panels in front of Clank. Clank had a two, a six and an eight. Ratchet's heart rate increased slightly as he realized that Clank was bluffing the entire time. Nick gave his father a dirty look as he muttered, "I knew it..."

Clank protested, "That was not called for."

"I know," Nick said. "I'm sorry. I was just curious. But you've gotta watch your antenna; it glows slightly when yer bluffin'."

Clank stopped counting. He was taken aback by that information; he did not realize that he was broadcasting any visible indication of his intentions. Ratchet's eyes widened slightly - he would have to watch for that in the future himself, and not just for partner poker!

Clank looked at Nicholas questioningly. Nick nodded. "Serious."

"Thank you for that information, Nicholas," Clank said. "I will have to remedy that in the future."

Petrov's comm crystal chimed. "Yeah?"

"Where's Talwyn?" Nick asked. "She might be up for a round or two."

Ratchet shook his head. "Normally, she would. But she's at Reg's setting up the nursery."

Petrov was still talking over the comm crystal. "Excellent!" he said. "Congratulations!"

Realizing who was likely at the other end of Petrov's comm link, the table hushed, listening to general's half of the conversation.

"It's a female!" Petrov told the waiting group. Nick nodded, somewhat smugly. "Reg, I've got Nick, Clank and Ratchet here. Can I put you on broadcast?"

The answer must have been 'yes' because Petrov touched another crystal on his glove. They could all hear Reg's voice, somewhat tired, but happy. And strangely elusive... "Hey!" Around the table, everyone wished their congratulations. "Everything went well, Nichole told me that both Melody and Crystal are fine. There were no complications. Mel's in normalization right now. Nichole went to help Talwyn at the suite to get the nursery set up. They are also gonna stay with Mel and Crystal for a few days. Uh, Ratchet?"

"Yeah?" Ratchet called out in the general direction of Petrov's glove.

"Do ya mind if Justin and I stay at your place?"

Ratchet was somewhat surprised, "Uh, sure, I guess. Why? What's wrong?"

Reg's voice still had that wary note to it, as though very nervous about something. "Mel's not, uh ... happy. Can you take me off broadcast?"

"Uh... Sure..." Ratchet used his neural matrix to switch the connection to his own comm crystal. Now only he could hear Reg. "Okay. What's up?"

"She's a bit tense," Reg explained. "Angry. She's in normalization right now, and Nichole thinks I better stay away until she sounds the all clear."

"Why?" Ratchet asked. "I know what normalization means, but..."

"Well," Reg interrupted, "Let's just say she threatened to chop off, um ..., parts of my anatomy. With a turbo blade. I don't think anyone with a Y chromosome is safe within ten kilocubits of her right now."

Ratchet tried desperately to stifle the laugh he felt coming. "I understand," he said in a carefully neutral tone. "You and Justin can stay over, as long as you don't mind Zephyr and Cronk's room. Nick is staying over for another day until modifications on The Wrench are finished."

"Actually, the terrace is fine," Reg said. "I know the bots have a bad habit of stashing explosives. Anyway, the fresh air'll do us both some good. I'll pick up Justin from Zeke's. Then I've gotta swing by the med center - Nichole said that she'll pack some stuff and leave it there for us to grab. We'll be by in about two hours. Is that okay?"

"We'll be there," Ratchet said. After a slight pause, he went on, "Sorry to hear about Mel. I know you were gettin' in shape..."

"I don' wanna talk about it," Reg said, the disappointment painfully evident in his voice. "Like I said, the cool air'll do me a bit o' good. Thanks again, Ratchet. I owe you one." There was a click as the link disconnected.

All eyes were staring at Ratchet, hungry for information. "Is Melody okay, Ratchet?" Clank asked.

"Everyone's fine," Ratchet explained. "Reg and Justin will be staying with us a few days." Ratchet gathered up the bolts that Clank had counted out for him and swept them into his pile. It was now significantly larger than when he started.

"Yer never gettin' away with leavin' it like that," Petrov said, shaking his head. "It musta been somethin' big for Reg t' leave Mel alone with a newborn kit."

Ratchet looked at Petrov and started to grin; he could not help it. "Mel won't be alone," he said, trying with great difficulty to keep from laughing. "Nichole and Talwyn will stay with them. But unpredictable's the right word," Ratchet said, smiling. "As close as Melody wanted Reg last time, she wants him as far away as possible now. And as fer 'something big'..." Ratchet paused, starting to chuckle again. "Let's just say that after his ear, Reg is a little shy about losing other body parts..."

It took Petrov a moment, but the meaning was immediately clear. "You mean?" Ratchet nodded. The table exploded as Nicholas and Clank started chuckling and Petrov roared with laughter. Ratchet just shook his head, laughing as well, but feeling kind of sorry for Reg. After all his workouts and preparations, too... Maybe he should treat them to a vacation on Saphria. After Mel finished normalizing, of course...

"One more hand, then we've gotta go," Ratchet said, placing twenty five bolts into the center of the table.

* * *


	4. Chapter 02

**Chapter 2: Justin's First Tool**

Ratchet yawned, slowly stretched and rolled over in the bed onto his left side. Reaching out with his right arm, he moved to gently touch Talwyn's side and back as he did every morning, but his arm encountered only emptiness, dropping to the sheets and cushions next to him. The lombax's eyes popped open in a sudden burst of panic, the jolt of adrenalin enough to burn away the last traces of sleep and instantly return Ratchet to full wakefulness. Of course Talwyn was not there; she was with Nichole, watching Melody and Crystal. But even though Ratchet's mind was put at ease with the thought, his heart was still racing from that initial moment of terror. Sleep was now utterly out of the question.

Ratchet threw off the blankets and sat up at the edge of the bed. He was wearing only the pair of white shorts he normally wore while sleeping: the ones that Talwyn bought for him with the stylized (and rather silly looking, Ratchet thought) rocket ships printed on the light fabric. Stretching once again, he stood, carefully made the bed, shaking the sheets out to remove any shed fur and looked around the bedroom. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but it was still early, just a little before sunrise. The lombax moved to the desk, retrieving his gloves and the neural matrix cap from where he had placed them the previous evening *. Putting them on, he verified that the manifestor on his right glove was active and that all of his gear was ready. Then Ratchet deactivated the sensory distortion force field around the bedroom, opened the door very slightly and peeked out into the hallway.

(* - Ratchet learned very soon after moving to New Fastoon that he should absolutely NOT wear the neural matrix while sleeping. The device was sensitive enough to pick up any dreams he might have, and the lombax woke one morning to find himself with an empty manifestor, surrounded by mounds of his gear strewn around the bedroom, including weapons, ammunition, clothing, NutraStix packets and tool kits. As Ratchet fastened his tracer on before leaving the apartment that morning, he had a vague recollection of a nightmare: searching for something to cut a metal chain off his right ankle. The lombax was extremely grateful that he had not actually used any of his weapons to remove the imaginary shackle, and possibly his foot with it. From that morning on, Ratchet vowed two things: that he would never fall asleep while wearing the neural matrix again and that he would cut back on extra capsaicin gravity wells before bedtime.)

Nicholas' loud snore was easily heard from their guest bedroom. Nick's sleeping habits were something of a mystery that Ratchet was still trying to figure out - the engineer seemed to keep all kinds of strange hours, be awake seemingly for days at a time, napping at random intervals... When he did sleep, he would sleep _very_ heavily, but only for a few hours. Ratchet could not quite work it out; maybe there was some kind of duty shift or watch that he kept on The Wrench and he was just used to that. There was no sign of Clank, but Ratchet could just make out the sound of another, much lighter snore, coming from the direction of the living area and terrace. Reg and Justin, probably.

Ratchet could not blame Reg for not wanting to stay in Zephyr and Cronk's room. The two warbots had their own apartment at The Academy, but still maintained their room here as well, both for storage and for their frequent visits to Talwyn, Clank and himself. But Ratchet knew that Reg was right - the bots tended to leave explosives and other rather dangerous toys strewn around their room, forgotten, and it was not a safe environment for Justin. The year old kit had a huge curiosity in exploring his environment, and the mines, bombs and other combustibles that the warbots used for everything from weapons to fishing tackle were not what Justin should be experimenting with. At least, not yet; maybe when he was a little older.

Walking as quickly as he could, Ratchet moved out of his bedroom and into the bathroom, sealing the door behind him. Glancing at his own image in the display, Ratchet grimly noted that he was developing a little more grey, silver and white fur, mainly where the color bands met. It was not all that noticeable unless you were looking for them, but then Ratchet was looking... Talwyn teased him about it all the time, not only because of how much it bothered him, but also because they both knew how utterly unimportant it really was.

Ratchet chuckled to himself a little at the thought, removed his shorts, tossing them on an empty shelf and climbed into the hydroshower. Setting the controls to his normal configuration, a series of jets along the three walls sprayed his body with a large amount of very warm water and steam began to build in the confined enclosure. Ratchet touched another button, mixing a highly concentrated cleaning solution with the water, generating thick foam from the jets. As Ratchet worked the foam into his fur, the timed control reset, reverting the jets back to water only and rinsing the cleansing agent away. It was antiquated way of doing things, and significantly less efficient than electrostatic cleaning systems, but it felt a lot more luxurious and relaxing. Plus, the physical effort actually helped Ratchet feel cleaner, even though he knew just in his head; electrostatic systems worked just as well if not better than hydroshowers. Ratchet didn't really care about the efficiency of the system as he plunged his head and face into one of the jets. It worked and he knew it worked, that's all that mattered.

Ratchet switched the control from hydro to air, and the jets of water became blasts of heated air, rapidly pulling the excess moisture from his body, both drying and fluffing at the same time. Grabbing his brush that hung on a nearby hook, he carefully worked it through his fur, especially around the more stubborn fur on his head, ears and tail tuft. When he was finished, he hung the brush back on the hook, stepped carefully to the side of the enclosure and twisted the temperature control to cold. Instantly, the warm air jets turned frosty and Ratchet moved his face, eyes closed, into the blast from the large jet level to his head. Ahhhh... The lombax loved the feel of wind on his muzzle and while it was not the same as when he was on his hoverbike or rocket sled it still felt good; it was a great way to start the day. Being careful not to move in the stall for fear of getting a blast of cold air in a less welcome region of his body, Ratchet shut down the jets and stepped out of the chamber.

The lombax slipped his shorts back on, the autoclean cycle having already completed on the small garment. Putting on his gloves and neural matrix first, Ratchet carefully dressed in a light, loose fitting shirt and a set of comfortably broken-in jeans from his manifestor, threading his tail through the appropriate opening. Standing barefoot on the heated floor of the bathroom, he stretched once more, deactivated the illumination filament and walked through the door into the hallway.

He must have been in there longer than he thought. As soon as he stepped out, Ratchet was greeted by the sound of a small, simulated explosion coming from the living area and the gaming console. Walking into the dining area, he saw the holovid active and Justin sitting on the very edge of the couch, frantically maneuvering his simulated hoverbike around a high speed track, avoiding the explosive obstacles on both the track itself and that other racers were firing at him from behind. The year old lombax was already dressed in a short sleeved pullover shirt and jeans, with a large pair of running shoes on his feet. Justin was not wearing his gloves; they were lying in a heap next to the couch, his hands tightly wrapped around the vidgame controls that were slightly too large for him, slipping slightly on the smooth polymer surface. Ratchet couldn't help but smile as he saw his nephew's face twisted in concentration, the tips of his small ears (relatively speaking, of course) twitching with excitement as the young lombax played the racing game. Justin's tail lashed around, counterbalancing as the lombax reflexively leaned into each twist and turn, the tuft a somewhat tangled blob of orange against his light blue shirt.

Clank was also awake, standing in front of the couch next to Justin. The robot's hands held the controller and moved a second hoverbike along the trail. But watching from a distance, Ratchet could tell that Clank was not really trying all that hard. The robot's optics moved back and forth from the display to Justin, keeping watch over the young lombax and providing just enough of a challenge to make it fun, but still keep it hard for the young lombax to keep up. Ratchet knew full well how good Clank's reflexes and reaction times were, and this game was not even close to a match of Clank's abilities. It seemed his friend was teasing the young lombax, staying just slightly ahead or slightly behind, allowing the match to be dead even, enticing his eager nephew to push himself harder to win. Ratchet smiled; he knew that Clank could easily win this game if he wanted to, but also realized that his friend was enjoying his nephew's reactions far more than any simple victory.

"G'morning, Clank, Justin," Ratchet called out. Immediately, Justin's hoverbike veered to the right, smashing into the wall and exploding as the surprised lombax's finger slipped on the controller. Clank's 'bike also crashed, but Ratchet noticed the robot's deliberate flick of the stick.

"Uncle Ratchet!" Justin eagerly called out in his slightly high pitched voice, quickly spinning on the couch and facing him. "Clank was teaching me how to play this great new game!"

"So I see," Ratchet replied happily, grinning at his nephew. "Thanks, Clank," he said, nodding to the robot, winking very slightly.

Clank caught Ratchet's wink and chuckled. "You are welcome. Your nephew is a very quick study, and is steadily improving. His reflexes and his coordination are becoming a match for your own."

"I'll bet," Ratchet said emphatically. Justin's reaction time was extremely good, especially given his age. Looking over at his nephew, he asked, "Is yer dad still asleep?"

"Yeah," Justin answered. "He's outside making happy noises."

Ratchet blinked. Huh? The lombax looked back and forth between Justin and Clank, somewhat confused by that phrase. Then Ratchet shrugged, moved around the couch, walked through the archway and out onto the terrace to see for himself.

Two of the outdoor chairs had been adjusted into makeshift beds for Reg Solstice and his son Justin. Ratchet had provided each of them a set of blankets to ward off the slight chill in the New Fastoon night air. Justin's blankets were bunched up on the ground near the empty chair.

Reg was lying on his side, fast asleep on the other chair. There was a blanket underneath him, but his top blanket had also been discarded. The Lombax Prime Minister was wearing only his grey exercise slacks, with his tail dangling to the stonework of the terrace. His back was to the west and to the morning sun, its bright beams illuminating and warming the lombax's golden (and slightly greying) fur. Reg's eyes were tightly closed and there was an extremely contented smile on his face as he slept. But, in time with his rhythmic breathing, the lombax issued a soft, gentle purr from deep within his chest.

A smile broke out on Ratchet's face. Happy noises - a rather cute, but truly accurate description. As Ratchet watched, Reg stirred slightly, stretched, flexing his legs and toes, then settling back in the sun once more. The purr grew slightly louder.

Very quietly, Ratchet backed away and returned to the living chamber. Looking at Justin, he nodded and said, "Happy noises."

"Yeah," Justin explained eagerly. "When it's sunny out, he'll stay in bed for hours making happy noises."

Ratchet nodded. That was probably more than he wanted to know, but Reg was happy - that was the important thing. Looking at Justin's eager face, he glanced at the paused game. Nodding at the display, Ratchet asked, "Have you ever played with a real hoverbike?"

Clank looked up at Ratchet sharply, one eye slightly wider and brighter than the other, as though concerned about Ratchet's intentions.

"No," Justin answered. "Dad took me for a ride once, but that's it."

"That's not what I meant," Ratchet corrected, shaking his head slightly. "Have you ever worked on one? Taken it apart and seen what's inside; what makes it fly?"

Justin looked a little confused. "No," he said.

Ratchet looked around the room, as though checking for spies. He was enjoying this game almost as much as Clank had enjoyed playing with Justin earlier. Sinking to one knee next to the young lombax, he said, very quietly, "Well, I was gonna go down to the track and work on my hoverbike. The lift's been acting up. Wanna come? I could use the help."

Justin's eyes opened wide with eager amazement, his ears perked and his tail whipped around, hitting Ratchet on the side of his right arm. "Can I?" the kit asked in an eager voice.

"Sure..." Ratchet had barely muttered the word when Justin dashed towards the front door of the apartment suite.

"Whoa! Whoa, Justin," Ratchet said, looking across the room, once again taken aback by the kit's sheer speed. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Ratchet held up one of the lombax's small gloves by the cuff.

"Oh, yeah!" Justin said. "Forgot." He ran back across the room, grabbed the gloves and started heading for the door again.

Ratchet shook his head, chuckled and looked at Justin, waiting by the door. "At least lemme get my boots on."

* * *

"Here she is," Ratchet said as he carefully guided the floating hoverbike out of his garage into the sunlight of the early morning. There was an appreciative gasp from Justin. Ratchet's hoverbike truly was a thing of beauty, its sleek lines trimmed with ornamental metals, the red luster of the main components set off with the gold trim, the handlebars set with a series of extra, customized controls, ranging from weapon launchers to fuel additive injectors, even an emergency force field generator for the inevitable high speed crash.

Justin's gasp was not the only one. Rich Quantum, deputy minister for Region 9, was standing next to the young lombax as Ratchet moved the hoverbike to the work area. Before Ratchet had left the apartment suite with Justin, he quietly asked his on duty guard to call in for reinforcements. Ratchet did not expect any real danger or anything, but with Justin's speed, he wanted to make sure there was at least one other adult around, if not more, to make sure the kit didn't wander into anything too dangerous. Rich gave an appreciative whistle. "Nice 'bike!"

Ratchet grinned up at him. "Yeah," he said. "I spent a lotta time gettin' everything just right." He adjusted the controls and gently lowered the hoverbike to the ground, then tipped it onto its side, laying it flat on the somewhat flexible work surface spread out on the ground in front of his garage / storage area. Looking to Justin, he asked, "Could you go in there," gesturing behind him inside the garage, "and bring me the red toolbox on the floor?"

"Sure, Uncle Ratchet," Justin said, quickly going into the garage.

Rich looked at him and asked, "So, what's wrong with it?"

"Nothing," Ratchet quietly said.

Rich startled slightly. "Then why are you..."

Justin came out of the garage, lugging the small tool chest. It was very heavy for him, and the one year old was leaning away trying to carry it. Ratchet shook his head slightly at Rich, smiled and gestured towards Justin. Rich nodded, grinning. Justin arrived next to Ratchet and set the toolbox down as gently as he could. It slipped out of his small hands and fell the last few centicubits, making a loud clattering sound.

"Sorry Uncle Ratchet," Justin apologized. "It's real heavy."

"I know," Ratchet confided. "Don' worry 'bout it." He sat down next to the 'bike, opened the case, rummaged for a second and drew out his old omniwrench 8000. This omniwrench had been with Ratchet for a very long time, but he no longer carried it in his manifestor because he had upgraded. It was still very handy as a wrench, though, and he used it all the time while working with his vehicles.

Ratchet patted the ground next to him. "Have a seat," he said. Justin sat down next to the older lombax.

"I'd better keep an eye on things," Rich said, remaining standing, but lounging against the garage entrance near the pair. "Just in case anyone wanders by."

"Okay," Ratchet said, shrugging his shoulders slightly. It was probably a good idea, given Justin's speed. Looking at the kit, he carefully pointed out the various components of the hoverbike: the controls, the thrusters, the fuel intake and additive mixers. Finally, he pointed out the bottom of the 'bike. "Here's where I've got problems. The lift system's not working quite right. We need t' fix it. Ready?"

Justin nodded eagerly.

"Okay. See this bolt right here? I want you t' take it off. Carefully." Ratchet handed his wrench, grip first, to the young lombax. "First, adjust the space between the blades. That's it..." Ratchet watched as Justin complied. He seemed familiar with handling and adjusting the wrench, even though it was a little big for him.

"Have you ever taken anything apart before, Justin?" Rich asked.

"Yeah," Justin replied. "One time I was with Grand Zeke. He was asleep. I found a wrench 'n started takin' the couch apart. The leg came off and he woke up."

Ratchet smiled. "When I was yer age, I found a wrench too, but my parents weren't home. I had half the house in pieces before they caught me!"

Rich chuckled. "Me too. But for me, it was a torque driver. Same result though."

Justin, meanwhile, had adjusted the wrench to fit the bolt, and was very carefully trying to undo the connection. The bolt was on tight, though; Ratchet could see him struggling. Reaching behind him, he removed a small bottle of a slightly yellowish solution from the toolbox. Offering it to Justin, Ratchet said, "Why don'tcha put a drop o' this on it? It'll loosen right up." Seeing Rich's curious look, Ratchet muttered, "FrictionFreer." Rich nodded.

Justin applied a single drop to the bolt, refitted the wrench and tried again. After an initial moment's strain, the bolt began to spin freely.

Ratchet grinned. "Okay. Now put the bolt over here, we'll need it later. Carefully remove the trim piece..."

"What kind of metal is this, Uncle Ratchet?" Justin asked, looking at the carved ornamental cover in his hands.

"That's just gold. It's a bit soft, so be gentle with it."

"Okay. It's pretty."

"Yeah," Ratchet chuckled. "It looks great against the red, doesn't it?" Justin nodded. "Okay, take off the cover panel. It should just drop right... off."

Justin already had the panel off and was carefully putting it on the side along with the bolt and trim piece. After it was safely away, Justin peeked inside. Under the cover panel was a complex series of gears, antigrav generators and projection systems. The youngster's eyes popped wide as he stared into the array of tiny parts and micromachinery inside. "Wow..."

Ratchet chuckled. "Yeah. But it's not as hard as it looks. Lemme show ya around..."

* * *

Rich was seated in a polymer chair, sipping on the extra mild sludge he had ordered from Jacek's. He was watching Ratchet and Justin as the kit cautiously positioned the red cover back on the hoverbike base unit. Ratchet had carefully guided his nephew through the mechanical, magnetic and quantum components used to run the levitation systems of the vehicle, showing the kit how the device worked and what each part did. Even though it had taken approximately four hours, neither Ratchet nor Justin appeared tired in any way. In fact, both lombaxes looked extremely happy.

Justin was putting the gold trim piece over the cover plate and placed the bolt on the lock shaft. "Okay," Ratchet said, "Now just tighten the bolt. Take yer time."

Justin nodded and began to tighten the bolt. Ratchet sipped at his now cold sludge. When Justin had tightened the bolt as much as he could, Ratchet lent a hand, giving it one final revolution. With the final component in place, he disconnected the wrench, put it on the ground, then reached out and ruffled the fur around Justin's ears. The kit giggled and pulled away slightly. Ratchet chuckled to himself, enjoying the moment; the time spent with Justin. He saw the wrench resting on the ground next to the bike and an idea suddenly came to him.

"Justin," he said, "do you have any tools of your own yet?"

Rich looked over at Ratchet curiously. Justin shook his head 'no', his ears flapping slightly.

Ratchet picked up the wrench. "Ya know," he began, "I've had this wrench fer a while now; ever since Solana. I've been thinkin' about upgrading. I've been savin' up fer a few months, 'n I almost have enough." He leaned close to Justin and quietly continued, "I'm only about ten short. If ya want, I'll sell ya this one fer ten bolts."

Justin looked up into Ratchet's face, a mixture of shock, wonder and sadness evident there. The kit's ears perked, then drooped slightly. "Sorry," he said sadly. "I've only got two."

Ratchet looked at him kindly. "That's okay," he said. "Yer dad gives ya an allowance, right?"

"Three bolts a week," Justin replied, nodding.

"Well," Ratchet grinned, "I don't need the new one today. All ya hafta do is put those bolts into a flask. With the two ya have now, in a few weeks you'll have more than enough fer both of us! I'll sell ya my wrench fer ten, 'n use that t' get a new one." Justin's face lit up with a sudden understanding. "How's that sound?"

Ratchet was still sitting on the ground and could not react quickly enough. Justin leapt to his feet, threw his arms around the stunned lombax, hugging him as hard as he could. "Thanks, Uncle Ratchet!"

Rich, looking on, smiled, nodding to the pair. "Justin, why don't you pack up the tools and put them back in the garage."

"But leave your wrench on top," Ratchet added.

"Okay," Justin said happily, gathering the tools and placing them in the red toolbox.

There was a flash of a teleporter and Clank materialized with Reg. Reg's eyes were tightly shut and his tail was fastened into the snap on the back of his open leviathan leather vest. The prime minister was standing rigid, holding his breath. "We have arrived," Clank said.

With a sudden whoosh, Reg let go of the breath he was holding, reached behind him and unfastened the snap holding his tail safely to his body. It sank to its proper place as Reg looked around.

"Dad!" Justin shouted and ran to his father.

Reg bent down, scooped the kit into his arms and lifted him high, kissing him on the side of the muzzle. "Hey, Squirt! Did you have a good time?"

Ratchet, meanwhile gathered the remaining tools, placing them in the toolbox. He left the omniwrench for last, holding it up for Justin to see before carefully laying it at the very top. Rich stood, picked up the toolbox, saying "I've got it," as he carried it back into the garage.

"I fixed Ratchet's hoverbike!" Justin said enthusiastically as Reg carefully placed his son on his shoulders.

"Oh really," Reg said, looking at Ratchet somewhat questioningly. Reg knew a lot about hoverbikes, and knew that this was well beyond Justin's ability.

"I showed him how to adjust the levitation stabilizer," Ratchet said. He got to his feet, righted the hoverbike and engaged the mechanism. It floated, hovering a few centicubits above the ground. It was not any different from when Ratchet had pushed it out earlier this morning, but then, there was nothing really wrong with it to start with.

"Mmmhmm," Reg muttered. "It looks like he did a great job!" Ratchet nodded.

"Dad!" Justin shouted excitedly. Right into Reg's scarred left ear; the older lombax cringed slightly, but hid it well. "I got my first tool! Uncle Ratchet's gonna sell me his wrench." Ratchet looked around a little guiltily. He had hoped to talk with Reg about that first in private, explain why, but Justin's exuberance changed his plans and took that opportunity away.

Reg stared at the increasingly uncomfortable looking Ratchet. But Reg's mind was really far away; the prime minister had relived Ratchet's memories first hand during the BetaTex playback, and Ratchet's motivation was completely clear to him. "Oh, really," Reg said. He looked up at his son. "How much did he ask for?"

Ratchet moved as though to speak, but Reg raised his hand, silencing him.

"Ten bolts," Justin said.

"Ten!" Reg said, his voice filled with theatrical shock. "That's a lotta bolts!" Reg flexed his knees slightly and bounced Justin on his shoulders. "How are you going to come up with that much?"

"I've got two already," Justin said proudly. "I'm gonna save my allowance. I'll have enough in three weeks!"

"Wow!" Reg said, smiling up at Justin. "That's a great idea!" He looked over at Ratchet, who seemed to be looking for a corner to hide in. Reg put his hand firmly on the lombax's shoulder before he could escape. "You know, Justin," Reg said, addressing Justin, but with his warm brown eyes firmly fixed on Ratchet's, "I was about your age when I got _my_ first wrench. When I was one, my parents caught me taking stuff apart and hid all the tools..."

Ratchet met Reg's gaze, shocked. He knew full well that was not true; not for Reg, anyway. The prime minister was talking about _his_ past!

"I remember how bad I felt. Then, I found an advertisement for a company called Gadgetron..."

"What's Gadgetron?" Justin asked. Ratchet felt a tiny twinge of sadness. Of course a kit born in Leonid would not know what Gadgetron was, any more than he knew what GrummelNet was until two years ago.

"They had a wrench for sale! And not just any old wrench, but an _omni_wrench like Ratchet uses. I saved for months, every bolt I could scrounge. Finally, I had enough and I bought it! I still remember how happy I was the day I got it." Reg continued to stare into Ratchet's eyes; they were somewhat moist with emotion. "It wasn't just getting the wrench though, but the fact that _I_ did it; that I saved for it all by myself." A grin filled Reg's muzzle as he looked up at the enthralled Justin. Looking back to Ratchet, he chuckled and said, "I'm sure Ratchet had a similar experience with his first tool..."

Ratchet nodded, grinning slightly.

"So," Reg continued, "I think it's great." He offered his hand to Ratchet. Ratchet accepted it, only to have Reg pull him into a bear hug. "Thank you, Ratchet," Reg said very quietly, so Justin could not hear. "It was a fantastic idea, and I know it'll mean a lot to him."

"You're welcome," Ratchet said simply. "It just came to me."

Reg nodded. "The best ones always do," he said. Looking up at Justin, he flexed his knees again, causing the kit to bounce. Justin laughed. "Why don't you show me your new wrench," he asked his son.

"Over there," Justin said, pointing inside the garage. "In the red toolbox..."

Reg nodded to Ratchet and slowly walked, bouncing Justin on his shoulders along the way, into the storage chamber. Ratchet's eyes followed them as they went.

"That was an excellent idea, Ratchet," Clank said.

"Thanks," Ratchet answered, somewhat distracted. "I'm glad Reg knew what I meant by it."

"What do you mean?" Rich asked. He seemed very puzzled. "I knew the Solstices, and I know that Reg was given a full toolkit before he could even walk."

Clank looked into Ratchet's eyes, hoping that the lombax would be able to tell the story himself. Until very recently, Ratchet always had a great deal of difficulty talking with others about his own past and his youth on Veldin. But Clank was very pleased to find that his friend was able to tell it, letting Rich know that the story was actually from _his_ youth, that Reg knew about it from the BetaTex playback and realized how much saving for the wrench meant to him. When he was done, Rich nodded. "I understand," he said. Looking over to Justin and Reg in the storage bin, he asked in a knowing voice, "You don't need a new wrench any more than the hoverbike needed fixing, do you?"

Ratchet grinned, shook his head and, making sure that Justin was not watching, manifested his Omniwrench Millennium 12, the one that Zephyr and Cronk had tweaked with a few non-standard options. Rich hefted it in his hands, looking it over. "Nice..." he drawled, handing it back to Ratchet. The minister quickly put it away before Justin could see it.

Looking down at Clank, Ratchet asked, "Any news?"

Clank looked up at him. "Big Al left a message while you were out..."

"Okay," Ratchet said. It was nice to know that Al tried to reach him, but the lombax was more concerned about other things. "What about Talwyn or Melody?" Ratchet asked. "Are they okay?"

"I did not receive any communications from either Talwyn or Melody," Clank answered. "However, I would not expect to unless there was some kind of difficulty."

Ratchet nodded apologetically. "You're right. Sorry about that. I'm just worried about 'em, that's all."

"I believe your concern is misplaced, Ratchet," Clank said. "Nichole is with them as well. If there are any issues that should arise, I can think of no other individual more suited to dealing with it."

"True," Ratchet admitted. Relaxing a bit, he asked, "So, what 'd Al have t' say?"

"He sends his regards," Clank answered. "He has completed the latest group of neural matrix caps and asks that you and Petrov contact him. It appears as if he is interested in discussing Petrov's recurring offer about setting up a branch location on New Fastoon."

Ratchet smiled. "Cool..." That would be great, and Petrov would be happy to hear that. "Anything else?"

"He also purchased and uploaded the latest Courtney Gears album for you."

"Excellent!" Ratchet said. "I didn't know she was working on one."

"I do not understand how you could be interested in listening to the recordings of someone that attempted to kill you," Clank said, shaking his head, his eyes slightly dimmed.

"It's just, well, you know," Ratchet stuttered. "She's got that one video..."

"...Where she attempts to incite a robotic revolution to exterminate all organic life forms?" Clank interrupted, somewhat amused.

Ratchet was embarrassed. "I was thinking of that other one where she..."

Rich gave a polite cough, nodding to the garage. Reg and Justin were walking back from the storage unit, so Ratchet dropped the conversation at that point.

"Nicholas also left a message," Clank continued, "saying that the modifications to The Wrench are now completed. He has returned to the ship to validate the results. If everything is satisfactory, he will contact you before the trial begins."

"That's great, Clank!" Ratchet said.

"He intends to request your attendance, but needs to verify with Captain Waterman if it will be permissible. Nicholas expects some difficulty in getting his Captain's approval."

"Waterman?" Reg asked. Clank nodded. "He owes me a favor." Reg looked at Ratchet. "Get packed. He's a stickler for protocol and he might not like it, but..." Reg grinned slightly. "He'll let you watch."

* * *


	5. Chapter 03

**Chapter 3: Lunch Break**

Ratchet moved his hoverbike back into the storage locker and called out to the others, "Why don't we grab some lunch? On me."

There was a general murmur of ascent from those assembled. Rich asked, "Where to?"

"We should give Petrov a call, too," Reg said. Ratchet nodded.

Clank looked at the lombaxes for a moment. There was Ratchet, Rich, Reg and Justin. Four lombaxes, possibly five if Petrov was involved. From previous experience with the technically minded lombax species, Clank realized that it would take them approximately twenty-five minutes * to decide on a destination and depart. "Might I recommend," he offered, hoping to bypass the debate, "that we proceed to Colonel Caliber's facility and Holopark? Jacek Calorimeter has opened a new restaurant there, overlooking the simulation dome."

(* - The so called 'Rule of Five' was a rather crude, but horribly accurate method of predicting the behavior of any technologically advanced group. For every individual, five minutes was the minimum additional time required, per member, to reach a consensus on even the most mundane of topics, such as a lunch destination. Clank had already validated the accuracy of this estimation method when dealing with lombaxes, and knew that it would apply in this circumstance.)

The lombaxes looked at Clank, nodding. "Sounds great," Ratchet said, touching his comm crystal to contact Petrov.

"Cool!" Justin said. Looking to his father, he asked, "Can we watch the dome?"

"Sure, Squirt," Reg said to Justin. Looking over to Clank and Rich, he said, "Why don't we meet you there in, say, thirty minutes?"

Clank looked at the lombax carefully. "Would this provide you sufficient time to arrive?" he asked. "The normal rocket sled flight time would be..."

Reg smiled; everyone knew why he was taking the rocket sled. "It used to take longer," Reg explained, "but with Ratchet's additive, it's a lot quicker now." Looking up at his son, sitting on his shoulders, Reg bounced his knees again, causing the kit to lift briefly and bounce as well. "Right?" he asked the giggling kit. Justin nodded and replied, "Mmmhmm."

Ratchet looked up at them. "Petrov's in. He'll meet us there."

"Excellent!" Reg said. "Justin and I'll take the sled and catch up with you. Save us a good seat by the viewport." Justin's grin widened at the thought of watching the action in the dome.

"We will," Ratchet answered. "Do you want us to order anything for you?"

"No need," Reg said, shaking his head slightly. "Jacek is pretty quick."

"Have a good flight," Ratchet said, smiling.

"Thanks!" Looking up at Justin, Reg said to his son, "Now that you've got your own tool, maybe you're big enough to ride in the sidecar..."

Justin's smile got even wider as father and son walked down the row of parking and storage areas to his own multibay compartment and the rocket sled inside.

Rich's comm link chimed. "Rich here..."

Ratchet looked at Clank. "Maybe I should check in with Talwyn, see if she wants to come." Clank nodded.

Ratchet activated his comm crystal via the matrix and spoke out loud. "Talwyn? Ratchet"

"Ratchet," Talwyn replied. She sounded a little harried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ratchet replied, somewhat taken aback by her somewhat aggressive tone. "We're goin' t' Jacek's for lunch. Wanna come?"

"Not right now," Talwyn replied. And then, in a quick and quiet voice, she said, "Melody's still normalizing. She's, uh, not very good company right now..."

In the background of Talwyn's link, Ratchet could faintly hear Mel's voice, cursing rather loudly at Reg, and males in general. The tone and the language she was using was enough for Ratchet to realize that Talwyn was being very polite about her assessment.

"I understand," Ratchet said. "Can we send you some takeout?"

"Uh, tempting," Talwyn said, clearly thinking about the offer, "but it's probably best if we order it ourselves."

At that moment, Melody became aware that Talwyn was speaking into a comm link. Her voice raised, she growled angrily, "Is that Reginald? Tell that coward to come back here and I'll make sure he never uses that piece of equipment again!"

Ratchet's ears perked in surprise as Talwyn very calmly explained, "No, Mel. It's just Ratchet..."

Mel's reaction was not what he had hoped for. "Ratchet," she growled through what sounded like a muzzle clenched in anger or perhaps hatred. "Another male." She spat the words out as though they were a curse. "We can fix that, ya know. One quick slice with a phase knife and..."

Talwyn very loudly and very quickly talked over the link and Mel's voice. "Ratchet, I'll call you later. Thanks for the offer. Bye." There was a click as the link disconnected. Ratchet stood there for a moment, his face frozen in a combination of shock, disgust and more than a trace of fear. 'Normalization'... He shuddered.

"Will Talwyn be accompanying us?" Clank asked, looking into Ratchet's eyes curiously. They were a touch wild around the edges; a bad sign in the lombax.

"Uh... No," Ratchet said with a note of finality. No wonder Reg brought Justin with him to the apartment. "Mel's still, uh, not quite herself."

Rich walked over, shaking his head. His ears were drooping slightly. "I'm not gonna be able to go," he said, somewhat disappointed. "That was Dispatch. One of the communication bots, UR4GD, is acting up. He went crazy and started smashing his hyperlink monitoring station. It'll take hours to fix the damage. We're bringing him to the ACLR. Doctor 3X729PW1 is the robot who designed the series, and he's agreed to take a look at him and see if he can find out what happened. I've worked with 3X7 a few times; he really knows his stuff. If anyone can figure out what happened, he can."

Looking at Ratchet and Clank, he shook his head. "I've gotta go. But Tim'll be here in a few seconds. He's up for lunch." Rich chuckled softly to himself. Looking into Ratchet's eyes, he grinned playfully. "He'll keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't wander away..."

Ratchet rolled his eyes. "Why?" he asked, somewhat frustrated. "It's not like I'm goin' anywhere. Why the security?"

Rich's playful grin grew wider. His ears perked slightly as he teased, "Because it's fun!" Ratchet glared at him. "Aw, come on. It's just a game, and you know it! Just because I'm better at it than you are..."

Clank looked up at Rich in shock. Surely the regional minister recognized that the implications of his last statement were like firing an infrared flare in front of a snagglebeast.

Ratchet continued to stare at Rich, his ears perking a little and a small smile playing at the edges of his muzzle. A game, huh? "We'll see about that," Ratchet said, accepting the dare that Rich had so casually thrown at him.

There was a disturbance in the air nearby and Deputy Tim Resonance materialized. He saw the group and quickly walked over. "Hi," he said. "I heard you were going out for lunch."

Rich and Ratchet both turned to Tim at the same time. Both had the same playful smile on their face. Tim reflexively took a step backward and raised his hands in front of himself defensively, knowing full well that he had stepped into the middle of something dangerous.

Clank quickly spoke to calm Tim down. "Do not be alarmed," he said. "Ratchet and Rich were discussing security arrangements."

"Oh," Tim quietly mumbled.

Rich and Ratchet both stirred. The challenge was certainly not forgotten, but now was not the time for that. Rich looked over at Tim. "I've got to go to the ACLR and see if there's any news from 3X7." Turning back to Ratchet, he said, "Tim will go to lunch with you instead. Have a great time, and say 'hi' to Petrov for me." He summoned a teleport pad with his neural matrix.

Ratchet nodded. "Good luck with the comm bot. I hope he's okay."

"Thanks," Rich said, stepping on to the teleport pad. The scanner arms shot up around him and he vanished. The teleporter pad vanished a few seconds later.

"So," Tim began, "it sounds like I missed something."

"Rich just dared me to try to escape," Ratchet said very casually.

"Oh," Tim muttered. "You're not going to do it on my watch are you?" he pleaded. "Rich'll be pissed and make me run fitness courses for the rest of my career."

Ratchet chuckled. "Not today," he said. Tim visibly relaxed. Ratchet summoned a teleporter pad of his own. Clank and the two lombaxes climbed onto it. Just as they teleported, Ratchet continued, "But I can't make any promises..."

* * *

Jacek's latest culinary establishment was located in the very heart of Region 7's entertainment district. Colonel Caliber's Holorange and Recreational Facility had expanded significantly ever since Ratchet had invested in the domed annex, housing a sector wide array of simulation and support functions. Jacek had accepted Ratchet's invitation, and, after some further negotiations with Ember Caliber, had opened a premiere restaurant in one of the observation suites overlooking the dome. The views were spectacular; diners were able to watch the simulations below with perfect clarity as the deputies trained in a series of carefully designed fitness courses and battle scenarios. While many of the holographic sessions were private and blacked out from the observation suites (including Ratchet's private sessions), the LDM training was open to public viewing, allowing the guests to study the simulations as a reminder of the dangers they faced and what the deputies were really training for. It was a combination of public awareness, physical fitness and battle readiness. It was a huge success. Ratchet wished he could claim credit for the idea, but it really came from Petrov and Ember.

The restaurant was extremely popular, and the combination of Ember's facility, Ratchet's dome and Jacek's restaurant elevated the three establishments (and their owners) to new heights. Clank, acting as Ratchet's financial advisor, assured the lombax that his personal accounts were sufficient to purchase entire star systems should one ever come up for sale.

Ratchet had different plans, though. He had been, with Clank's help, funneling the bolts back into New Fastoon; sponsoring a number of new projects with the ACLR, researching advanced technologies in the fields of armament (both offensive and defensive), transportation and transdimensional exploration. Ratchet's personal goal was to build up enough bolts to commission a new flagship for the lombax fleet. He, Petrov and Reg had already discussed it, and they hoped to pool their rather significant resources and sponsor a fourth flagship dedicated to the five families (Solstice, Neutrino, Tesseract, Quantum and Gaiden). 'The Ratchet', as Reg and Petrov jokingly referred to the craft, would join The Hammer, The Wrench and The Component, significantly adding to the military and scientific capabilities of the lombax nation, although Ratchet really hoped they would agree to a more sensible name later on.

Ratchet, Clank, Petrov and Tim were seated at Jacek's best table in the observation suite. Two chairs (one with a height adjuster on it) were left reserved for Reg and Justin. Justin's seat had an unobstructed view over the dome, where students from The Academy were undergoing an exercise on stealth and marksmanship. Ratchet, looking through the one way viewport, could identify Randall Bitstream among the trainees. This must be an advanced group: Randall was nearing his eighteenth birthday and was soon to be leaving The Academy. The young lombax hoped to avoid duty on New Fastoon and get assigned to one of the ships in the fleet, but Ratchet had other plans for him...

"Thanks fer invitin' me," Petrov said to Ratchet, breaking the lombax's thoughts.

Ratchet smiled back. "It wouldn't be the same without ya," he replied. Glancing at the menu, Ratchet was keenly aware that he really knew most of Jacek's standard dishes by now. After having Nick cook for him, though, they all seemed kind of bland.

Clank glanced at the offerings and immediately selected, pressing a button in front of his place setting and ordering out loud, "I would like the 70 Hertz power feed, sine wave with randomized spikes every seven to ten microseconds. Do you have any stabilized Ytterbium isotopes available?" There was a red flash from the button. Clank looked mildly disappointed and retracted his dessert option. "I will have the power feed alone, then." The button turned green, locking in the order.

Ratchet chuckled. "I know, Clank. It's only been a few hours, and I miss Nick's cooking too..."

Petrov smiled. Nodding to them he said, "Think of how I feel! He'd been cookin' fer me 'n Nichole fer years before he went t' the Academy. Lost nearly eight percent o' my body weight when he left." Petrov chuckled. "Mostly fat, but I really missed it... And him." The general looked down at his menu, breaking eye contact. Ratchet realized that Petrov probably knew Jacek's menu far better than he did, and was just reading it to avoid eye contact and to break off that line of conversation.

Tim looked over to Ratchet and asked, "What do you recommend?"

"I've always been happy with the sewer shark," Ratchet answered. "D'ya have any allergies t' seafood?"

"Not that I know of," Tim said, shaking his head.

"You'll love it," Petrov said, putting down the menu and looking at Tim. "Have ya ever had it before?" Tim shook his head, 'no'. Petrov reached over, pressed the button in front of Tim and ordered the sewer shark. The button turned green and Petrov muttered, "Trust me!" to Tim.

Ratchet nodded. That was a great idea. Wondering briefly if Jacek got this serving idea from Saphria, Ratchet pushed his button and ordered the sewer shark as well. After the button turned green, Petrov shook his head. "Yer gonna be disappointed..."

Ratchet looked up at him, somewhat surprised. "Why?"

"Once you've had it 'still movin', it's jus' not the same..."

Ratchet chuckled. Petrov was probably right, as always, but he had to try. Plus nothing else really appealed to him at the moment.

Petrov studied the menu again, taking an unusually long time doing so. Finally, he pressed his button and stated clearly, "Gimme the multistrata, but heavy on the capsaicin. And I _know_ you've got some Phyrettic pod flecks back there. I wanna feel the burn - got it?" There was a pause for a few moments, but the button in front of Petrov finally turned green.

Looking into the curious faces around him, Petrov explained, "Nick might not be cookin', but this'll be close. The multistrata's Nick's recipe, 'n he brings Jacek spices every time he's on planet. Kinda figured he'd bring some pod flecks. They're hard t' get around here, but Nick uses 'em fer everything from his firesticks t' lava soup; anything he wants to put some serious heat on."

From the back of the restaurant, Ratchet caught sight of a quick flash of yellow and orange, but it quickly vanished. A few moments later, as he watched, the tips of a kits ears came into view and finally Justin's face peeked out from the emergency access stairs located just beyond the bank of teleporters. "I see them!" Justin said, waving at Ratchet and his friends at the table. They all politely waved back as Justin, on Reg's shoulders came into full view.

Reg had taken the emergency stairs to avoid the teleporters, but it was easily a nine level climb with Justin on his shoulders. He looked a little out of breath as they joined the table. Placing Justin in the height adjusted seat, only to have the kit immediately spin around to watch the action through the viewport, Reg sat down at his own chair somewhat tiredly. "Hey," he panted. "Sorry we're late. Those stairs are brutal!" Reg took a deep drink from his water glass and began looking through the menu.

Ratchet asked Justin, "Can you see okay?" The kit nodded eagerly. "Those are students from The Academy," Ratchet explained. "See how they're tryin' t' sneak up on each other? They're practicing stealth exercises. They're tryin' t' stay hidden while movin' towards the other team's flag." Justin nodded eagerly again. Ratchet turned to stare into Tim's eyes as he continued, "Just like the deputy that's blocking the emergency stairs, watching us."

Tim gave a guilty start and his ears drooped. Trying to bluff it out, he boldly said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

This also got Petrov's attention. "Who is it?" the general asked. He had not seen the flash that Ratchet had noticed, but knew based on the conversation and Tim's reaction that Ratchet was right, they were being followed. Badly.

Tim sighed. "It's Wallace," he said sadly. "Wallace Refractor."

Ratchet knew Deputy Refractor from his early days on New Fastoon. The rather stiff and professional LDM veteran was normally pretty good at this kind of thing. Probably Reg and Justin unexpectedly coming up the emergency stairs startled him and gave his position away. Petrov was reaching for his comm crystal, probably to give the failed deputy a reprimand (and probably a fitness course or two). But it wasn't necessary.

Ratchet shook his head, looking into Petrov's slightly grey eyes, saying, "Let me..." Ratchet pressed the green button in front of him, saying "I'd like to order a small gravity well, with extra giant squid and a hint of capsaicin for the lombax on the emergency stairs. Tell him it's with our compliments." The button flashed green for a few moments and then held steady.

Tim chuckled, nodding. Looking into Petrov's face, Ratchet explained, "Wallace is good; he knows his stuff. This was an accident. Believe me, he'll probably sign up for extra stealth training on his own after this. He'll be really pissed with himself that he got busted." Looking back to Tim, Ratchet added, "And he likes extra squid on his gravity wells. Can't understand why..."

There was a laugh around the table. Clank looked proudly at Ratchet, saying, "I know you will not like to hear this, but I am rather pleased that you were drafted to council. Ministers Gaiden and Petrov were both correct; you are a natural."

Ratchet chuckled. It was a nice compliment. Sort of...

Reg pushed the button in front of Justin. In a clear voice he said, "From the kit's menu, fried pteradon, with a small side of polygons, hold the capsaicin." When Justin's button turned green, he pressed his own, "Poached pteradon breast with a seed pod salad. No acorn dressing." Reg's button turned green.

Petrov turned to look at Reg, a puzzled expression on his face. "Poached?!?" he asked, shock and dismay evident in his voice.

"Yeah," Reg said heavily. "I'm outta shape. Between trying to keep up with Justin, Ratchet in the invasion simulation and those stairs..." Reg's voice trailed off and he shook his head sadly. "I've got to cut back for a while."

"Is everyone ready," Tim asked, his hand poised above a somewhat larger green button in the center of the table. Glancing around, he saw everyone nod. Tim pushed the button.

Immediately, the individual buttons went from green to clear, as did the button in the center of the table. Everyone's order materialized in the space in front of them. Clank connected the power connector and the lombaxes all began to sample their respective lunches.

Tim was extremely pleased with the sewer shark. His eyes opened wide as he enthusiastically enjoyed his lunch. But Petrov was right, Ratchet thought as he stared at the sewer shark sashimi in front of him. It was good, but it just wasn't as good as when he, Clank and Petrov had gone sharking for themselves. It was okay, but...

Petrov sampled his multistrata and paused for a sip of water and a deep breath of fresh air. "Oh yeah," he said, a combination of both pain and joy evident on his face. "Perfect!" Petrov looked over at Ratchet, whose disappointment was plainly evident in his slightly drooped ears. "Try this," Petrov said, transferring a portion of his own lunch onto Ratchet's plate. "Trust me. But watch it - it's hot!"

Ratchet sampled a small amount of the multistrata and his muzzle nearly exploded with the spicy heat of the dish. Still, the flavor was fantastic. The lombax could immediately tell that this was Nick's recipe, somewhat modified for restaurant use, but it still had the same homemade flavor. And the Phyrettic pod flakes took the heat of the dish into the black! His eyes tearing, Ratchet smiled to Petrov and gasped, "Thanks!" From now on, Ratchet thought, he would have to follow Petrov's lead and order whatever he did; Petrov really seemed to know his way around a menu!

There was a pause in the conversation for a while as they all ate their lunches. Watching through the viewport, Ratchet was very pleased to see how well Randall was doing in the stealth exercises. The encryption engineer had a very promising career ahead of him in the LDM.

Petrov continued to tease Reg about the poached pteradon. Ratchet could see for himself how utterly bland and flavorless it looked, and the expression on Reg's face seemed to confirm his suspicions. Under Petrov's close questioning, Reg explained that he had been feeling a bit sluggish, especially when compared to Ratchet in the battle simulations. Ratchet tried to head off that line of discussion, stating the fact that he was a bit younger than Reg was. But Reg would not accept that.

"If things had gone as planned," Reg said, "I doubt I would have survived Crystal's birth."

There was an amused pause. Clank, Ratchet and Petrov all understood that statement. Justin and Tim did not, but for different reasons. Justin had a concerned look on his face. "Dad," he said, a bit of fear edging into his voice. "Are you okay?"

Reg was quick to comfort his son. Roughly ruffling the fur around his ears, he told his son, "I'm fine, Justin. And I'll be around for a while yet. It's just that mom..."

Ratchet had leaned over to Tim and quietly whispered to him about Melody's previous normalization when she had Justin. It only took a few sentences, but Tim understood immediately and started to choke slightly on the sashimi he was eating at the time. He was fine, but the wide smile on his face clearly showed that he wanted to see how Reg would explain this one to Justin.

Reg glared at the two of them, then turned back to Justin. "Mom needed lots of... help when you were born. Just like mom needs Nichole and Talwyn now."

"Oh," Justin said, reassured by his father's explanation. "Okay."

Ratchet looked at Reg, grinning slightly. "Actually, I wanted to talk with you about that. I want to treat you and Melody to a trip to Saphria. When she's feeling better of course."

Reg looked at Ratchet, the surprise and joy evident on his face. "Thank you, Ratchet! That would be great! I look forward to it."

Ratchet smiled and nodded to Reg. Glancing at Petrov, he saw that the general had a somewhat dirty leer on his muzzle as he muttered, "I'll bet..."

"Have you heard from Talwyn?" Reg asked, ignoring Petrov's comment. "I haven't heard anything and I'm getting a little worried."

"Actually, yeah," Ratchet replied. "I invited her to lunch. She was, uh..., a little busy at the time. I could hear Mel in the background." Ratchet paused a little embarrassed and Clank could tell that he was blushing slightly in infrared. "Let's just say ya can stay at my place as long as you like."

Reg nodded. "Thanks, Ratchet," he said. "Mel was not herself, I take it."

Ratchet grinned slightly. "You might say that," he answered, his tone clearly giving away how much of an understatement that was.

"Actually, you're going to be on The Wrench soon," Reg said suddenly. "I spoke with Waterman on the way over. He wasn't happy, but he'll let both you and Clank on board for the tests. Are you sure it's okay for me to stay at your place while you're gone?"

"Why not?" Ratchet asked, rather amused. "The code's pi three one four infinity..."

"Six," both Petrov and Tim interrupted simultaneously, exposing the final digit to the apartment's access code.

"Most people aren't that free with access to their living quarters," Reg said, somewhat surprised that everyone seemed to know the code except him.

Ratchet just looked at Reg. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "I used t' live in an open garage, remember? Besides, we're all practically family anyway. Right, Justin?"

Justin had been watching the stealth training through the viewport and was not following the conversation at all. Automatically he replied, "Yes, Uncle Ratchet," in a rather distracted voice.

There was a slight chuckle around the table, as though Justin had proved Ratchet's point. "Just make sure you water the potted thorntrees every morning. They're very temperamental."

* * *


	6. Chapter 04

**Chapter 4: The Wrench**

A few hours later, Ratchet and Clank were on board Aphelion, headed for the space dock orbiting the sixth planet in their star system. While only the second planet, New Fastoon, was stable enough to support life, the sixth planet had an abundance of natural resources that could be conveniently synthesized into lombax flight components. Therefore, the space dock and repair center had been parked in a synchronous orbit around the gas giant, anchored in place by a particle harvest stream that transferred a steady flow of elementary atoms to the station for processing and manufacture.

Ratchet, Clank and Aphelion rapidly approached the sixth planet, with Jason Positron and Perigee close behind. Ratchet had tried desperately, at times stooping as low as begging, to convince Rich that he really didn't need an escort. After all, Talwyn was still on New Fastoon, Melody had a new daughter and most of his friends were there. Rich would not hear of it. Well, he heard it and compromised, but only up to a point. Rather than launching an entire squadron of fighters to escort the minister to his destination as was customary, Rich allowed Ratchet to take a single escort, but would not let him go alone. Deputy Jason Positron, the region nine squadron leader for the LDM and Rich's close friend, was piloting Perigee, a sentient single passenger psi class fighter. Perigee had already been upgraded with the flight enhancements and fuel additive systems that Aphelion had, so she was able to keep up with Ratchet's craft.

Not that Aphelion was very pleased by this. "Perigee," Aphelion said early on in their flight, the disdain in her voice clearly evident. "She's so young; she barely has over a million kilocubits on her, yet she thinks she's the fastest thing in space. She will be horribly, horribly disappointed when we evade her."

When Ratchet explained that this was a sanctioned trip and that he did not intend to lose the smaller craft, Aphelion was nearly heartbroken. Finally, in an effort to sooth her feelings, Ratchet challenged Jason to a little race. Setting strict rules, both ships lunged forward with inertial systems only - no wormhole or translight propulsion systems engaged. Normally, the smaller and less massive vessel would have an advantage in this kind of competition, but both Aphelion and Perigee were relatively evenly matched, with the extra mass of Aphelion's dual passenger compartment and heavy arsenal of weapons balanced by her larger (and customized) inertial engines. The two ships quickly crossed the short distance between the planets, but it was entering orbit where experience really paid off. Having flown with Ratchet many times before, Aphelion was used to rather exotic aerobatics and fully trusted what her pilot was capable of. After Ratchet warned her to hang on, he threw her into a wide loop at full speed, pulling a significant amount of gravity multiples, and skidded sideways, upside down into a synchronous orbit around the sixth planet. Jason and Perigee, by comparison, lost a tremendous amount of speed as they adjusted their course to enter orbit in a more civilized fashion.

Ratchet was still slightly dizzy from the excessive orbital entry when the comm link chimed. It was Jason. "Please tell me you did that on automatic," the shaken lombax asked. Ratchet did not answer the question; he merely smiled, spun Aphelion so that she was no longer inverted relative to the planet and provided routine orbital status. Jason just shook his head in response, muttering a slight curse at Rich's not warning him that his charge was insane ahead of time.

Aphelion, much happier now having bested Perigee in the low speed race, flew slowly in formation with the psi class fighter toward The Wrench. Ratchet caught his breath and whispered, "Wow..."

The flagship of the lombax fleet was truly a sight to behold! The ship was huge! The Wrench was nearly five times the size of the Phoenix, the only other large scale ship Ratchet had ever come into close contact with. Her primary shape was triangular and wedgelike, with two outrigger engine bays on either side. A dozen main propulsion units were arranged in a symmetrical pattern at the rear of the vessel, providing translight capabilities. The triangular tip of the ship was split, similar to Aphelion's split nose but along both the horizontal and vertical axis, and resting in the space between each hemisphere was a series of smaller cannonlike cylindrical structures. Ratchet had not seen anything similar to these before, but based on their forward orientation, suspected that they were a weapon array of some type. Each outrigger bay sported an energy projection unit and tens of thousands of closely spaced launch / landing facilities. They appeared to be too small for manned craft, but gave the outriggers the honeycombed appearance of a swarmer nest.

In Aphelion's passenger seat, Clank began giving Ratchet a few details about the ship. Some of them were lost in Ratchet's awe of the huge vessel, but one comment shocked him into paying attention. "Ratchet, this ship is almost completely automated. While The Wrench is not sentient, all of the functions are controlled by a crew of thirty individuals."

"Thirty people?" Ratchet said. The ship had to have more beings controlling her than that.

"That is correct, Ratchet," Clank continued. "Most of the interior is dedicated to both scientific facilities and engineering stations. While there are a large number of both maintenance and weapons drones on the ship, there are very few sentient beings. There are vast storage areas that have been designed for moving large numbers of people or cargo, but they are vacant at this time."

"Ratchet," Aphelion said, "there is an incoming communication from The Wrench. Audio only. I am putting it on speaker..."

"Attention incoming vessels." The voice was soft, feminine, but obviously generated - lifeless. "This is The Wrench. You have been identified as Aphelion, piloted by Minister Ratchet Neutrino, copiloted by 'Clank' B5429671, and Perigee, piloted by Deputy Jason Positron. Please cease your movements and hold your positions. You will be brought into the primary landing bay via inertial fields. Please acknowledge."

"Acknowledged," Ratchet whispered, still obviously in awe at the sheer bulk of the vessel in front of him.

"I am coming to a full stop," Aphelion said, her cultured voice betraying a hint of annoyance. "Ratchet, please close your jaw. It is rather unseemly."

Ratchet snapped out of his trance. "I'm sorry, Aphelion," he said soothingly. "I know The Wrench isn't even sentient. She doesn't hold an illumination filament to you."

Both Clank and Aphelion chuckled slightly at Ratchet's blatant (and rather transparent) attempt at flattery. "Don't worry, Ratchet," Aphelion said. "I understand. But remember, size doesn't always matter."

* * *

Aphelion and Perigee were gently guided into the main hanger located in a small section that bridged the upper two quadrants of the flagship. After settling down carefully on two landing cradles, Aphelion opened her canopy and shut herself down. Ratchet climbed out; Clank leapt out as usual, landing on the backpack connecting bolt. The sudden weight made Ratchet flinch slightly, but he was used to this. Jason Positron also climbed out, somewhat more slowly as Perigee also shut down. Both pilots connected fuel and energy leads to their ships. There was not another tail in sight.

After approximately five minutes had passed, the door to the hanger opened. Clank dropped to his feet to stand on Ratchet's right, while Jason stood slightly behind Ratchet to his left. Through the door lumbered something that could only be described as 'antique'.

It was a huge, old fashioned warbot! It stood very nearly double Ratchet's height on its two very solid hydraulic legs and looked like something out of a Palindrone catalog. Its great barrel of a chest was covered in the corrugated metal fingers of thermal sinks, interwoven with a series of clear tubes. A slightly viscous, glowing blue fluid could be seen pulsing through the tubes in a steady flow, potentially cooling the internal operating structures of the warbot. Two multijointed arms hung heavily from either side of its body, with an array of grips, pincers, probes and various tools fixed at each point. Even though the warbot appeared significantly older than both Zephyr and Cronk combined, there was no trace of disrepair or neglect anywhere on its surface. The robot was freshly painted in a deep navy, with silver trim around the numerous commendations and military citations that had been riveted to its chest. Its head was roughly spherical, with a single, blood red optic scanner positioned in the very center. The scanner apparently could adjust in both the horizontal and vertical axis; it appeared to look the lombax over from ears to tail. Repeatedly. The warbot stood there silent except for the gurgling of the fluid coursing around its structure.

Nicholas stood slightly behind and to the left of the warbot. He grinned very slightly and nodded in the direction of the warbot, as though it was expecting Ratchet to make the first move. So he did. "Hi," Ratchet said, offering his hand to the robot.

His offered hand was completely ignored. Ratchet's comm link chimed on his personal (and private) emergency frequency. "Excuse me for a moment," Ratchet said to Nick and the warbot. "Ratchet here."

"You idiot," Nick's voice chuckled inside his head. Ratchet looked up at Nick; he sounded just like his father... Petrov's son had not moved a millicubit, but his comm crystal was glowing with the active link. Neat trick! "He's waiting for you to ask for permission to come aboard!" There was a click as the link disconnected and Nick's comm crystal went dark.

Ratchet nodded. Of course - protocol. "Sorry about that," Ratchet quickly apologized. "Wrong link." Ratchet looked directly into the single optic scanner and asked as formally as he could, "Permission to come aboard?"

The old warbot's optic scanner shifted slightly to his left, as though looking to see if Nick had somehow coached Ratchet in proper behavior. Seeing that the engineer had not moved, he turned back to face Ratchet. "Permission granted." The voice originated from some speaker built into the barrel shaped body of the robot; it reverberated with a heavy bass and hinted at both extreme formality and age. Turning to his left once again, the robot said, "Mister Neutrino, would you do the honor of introducing us?"

"Certainly, sir," Nick said. Ratchet could tell that Nick was holding back his amusement very carefully as he walked to stand between them. "Minister Ratchet Neutrino," Nick said in the most formal voice Ratchet had ever heard the lombax utter and that would probably make his father double over with laughter if he ever heard it, "I would like you to meet Captain H2OMN. Captain Waterman, Ratchet." Ratchet extended his hand once more. This time, Captain Waterman accepted his gesture and very carefully shook it.

"Your reputation precedes you, Minister Ratchet," Waterman said, and the tone of contempt in his voice was undisguised. "It is not often that I allow visitors on this ship, and certainly never groundling adventurers such as yourself." The word 'groundling' might have been a curse, given the amount of venom attached to it. "I trust that you are suitably impressed with The Wrench. Would you please introduce me to your companions?"

"Uh, sure," Ratchet said, taken aback by the sheer amount of antipathy the robot had shown him. Maybe he was an organiphobe. "This is my friend Clank, and my escort Deputy Jason Positron of the Lombax Defense Ministry."

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance," the captain said in a voice that clearly showed that he was not pleased in the slightest. Turning to his left once again, he said, "Mister Neutrino, please see to our 'guests' during their mercifully short stay. See that they are taken care of and that they do not damage anything accidentally."

"Yes, sir," Nick said. Ratchet could tell that Nick was holding back laughter, and his eyes were the shade of sunlight through forest leaves. The warbot turned and very slowly lumbered back out the door of the landing bay. Once the door closed behind him, Nick swiftly held up his hand, silencing Ratchet. Nick's eyes unfocused slightly, as though he was listening to something. Finally, Nick smiled, moved forward and shook Ratchet and Clank's hands. "Hey," he said simply in an extremely relaxed tone.

"Hey," Ratchet responded, beginning to chuckle slightly. "Who, or maybe _what_, was that?"

"That," Nick answered, grinning very widely and laughing lightly. "That is Captain Waterman, commander of The Wrench."

"He did not appear to be very pleased to meet us," Clank observed dryly.

"Don' let that bother ya," Nick drawled. "It's nothin' personal. He's that way with everybody. Why d' ya think the LDM stuck 'em way out here?"

"What's a 'groundling'?" Jason asked.

"Oh, that's just his pet term fer a planet bound adventurer. Or deputy."

Ratchet ears sagged slightly and he looked a little hurt. "I might be rusty, but I'm hardly 'planet bound'..."

"It's all relative, Ratchet," Nick slowly explained, drawling his words slowly as he disconnected the power and fuel leads from the now replenished fighters. "He's been in space longer than some star systems. He mighta been one of the first sentient robots - ever." Very gently, he patted Aphelion's hull. She winked her landing lights at him. "Once he respects ya, he'll loosen up a bit."

"He likes you?" Jason blurted out.

"No," Nick corrected very quickly. "He doesn't like me at all. But he respects me." Nicholas grinned slightly. "Believe me, that means a lot." He looked over the trio, finally settling on Ratchet. His grin turned a little playful. "Why don't we pop over t' the engineering center 'n I'll show ya what real thrusters look like."

* * *

Nicholas led Ratchet, Clank and Jason through a series of airlocks and interconnecting passageways finally emptying into a main corridor that curved inward, as though around a central hub. Looking to his left and his right, Ratchet could see similar doors, widely spaced, lining the wall behind him. The wall in front of him had a thin illuminated strip, with arrows leading him to his right. Nick turned to the right and started to walk along the corridor.

"Yeah, I know," Nick started, shaking his head slightly. "Yer prob'bly wondering why we didn't jus' blink down there."

"What do you mean by 'blink'?" Clank asked, somewhat puzzled.

Nick chuckled. "Sorry. That's my term for usin' the ships teleporter network to go site to site. Ya really get use t' havin' the neural matrix all the time." Nick looked at Clank, and then added, "Don't you have one?"

"Ratchet and Al are still attempting to modify the lombax technology to make it compatible with my systems," Clank explained. "At the present time, it is only effective with organic species. The lack of such a mechanism has not been a limiting factor, however; I am still able to tap into most systems as required."

Nick thought about that as he very slowly ambled along the corridor, following the direction of the arrows. Finally, he nodded and said, "Good. If you don't mind, send me yer specs. I'll check with Al and see if I can help. Meanwhile, I've gotta neat cracker utility if ya want a copy..."

Clank chuckled. "There is no need," he said. "I am fully capable of breaking any encryption I encounter on my own."

Nick laughed. "Figures..." he muttered. "I'm not surprised. Glad t' hear it, though."

"Speaking of encryption," Ratchet said, following along behind Nick. The pace was a touch slow for the lombax and he wished they could move a little quicker. But that was just Nick's speed with everything he did - calm and relaxed. "I know there's an opening for an encryption engineer on The Hammer. I've been watchin' a cadet's progress at The Academy, helping him out, loaning him a couple o' my toys t' play with, that kinda thing. He's really good and he might be a match. Who should I check with?"

Nick glanced back at him, slightly alarmed. "Randall Bitstream?"

Ratchet was surprised; not only that Nick knew who he was talking about, but by the extremity of his reaction (for Nick, that is). "Yeah..."

"Can't help ya," Nick said, shaking his head. "Hammer's not gettin' 'm."

"Oh?" Ratchet said. Nick was in the lead, so Ratchet could not get a look at his eyes to see what color they were. He could tell that Nick was serious, but not why. "Why not?"

Nick stopped. Slowly turning towards Ratchet, the lombax noticed Nick's eyes were a very bright green - a good sign. A slow smile gradually spread on Nick's face as he shook his head, saying, "The Hammer's not gettin' 'm. He's _mine!_" Nick crossed his arms, moved to the inner curved wall and leaned against it, his tail lashing around as a counterbalance. "I've been watching his file. I've got searches 'n filters cross linked through the Academy 'n Institute datastores; when the right combo hits, I know it. Siggy, Sigma 587 Gamma 3, is lookin' t' settle down fer a few decades with a friend o' his he met on Phobos. I'm in the market; no waaay I'm lettin' The Hammer get 'm."

Ratchet smiled. He realized that Randall probably knew nothing about any of this; Randall was just hoping to get assigned to any ship instead of being planet bound. Ratchet had merely been trying to place the young lombax on a flagship instead of a standard (and significantly more boring) fleet support vessel. But Ratchet had never dreamed that Nick would be interested. "Cool! I didn't realize..."

"Ya shoulda asked," Nick interrupted, playfully teasing the minister. "I'm glad ya spoke up, though. I've already got Randall's file, 'n I've been working on Waterman fer weeks. Normally he doesn't like newbies, but I talked him into it. The offer's supposed t' go out in about a week or so, t' give Siggy a chance t' wake up 'n change his mind about movin' in with his fembot." Nick looked into Ratchet's eyes, a steady, calm light of absolute confidence and certainty in his own. "As fer The Hammer, they don't even know Randall's looking. If they didn't have me t' pretest all this techno stuff fer 'em, they'd be hopelessly lost."

Ratchet chuckled. He knew that the lead engineer for The Hammer was fully capable, but recognized there must be a lot of competition between the three flagships. Nodding slightly, Ratchet diplomatically said, "Prob'bly," and left it at that. Somehow, the thought of Nick having a competitive streak seemed surprising; but then, he _was_ Petrov's son. And Ratchet had played poker with him... "He's yours. I haven't talked t' anyone on The Hammer yet."

"Good," Nick said, turning back and starting to slowly walk down the corridor again. "He's got way too much talent t' get stuck with those drones."

Around the curve of the corridor, a set of doors became visible on the inner wall to their left. The arrows were leading to it. Beyond the door, another set of arrows flowed towards the same door from the other side. As they approached, Nick quietly said, "The outer doors lead t' airlocks, landing bays 'n various other things. The hub where we're heading now gets us t' the teleporter bays. All these sections're sealed off from each other in case of hull breech. The only way outta this level's through the central hub and the teleporters." Nick chuckled. "Normally, I'd blink up, but I've been sittin' in that chair fer a while; I needed t' wander about."

Nick glanced at the door and it opened without any visible command or gesture on Nick's part. Jason, looking on from the rear, asked, "Automatic?"

"Nah," Nick said. He looked at Ratchet, touched his cap and said, "Doc T was a genius. I know Uncle Reg and Al improved the design, but this is a work of art. Pity it's so damn addictive." Nick looked over to Jason and saw that he was wearing a standard pilot's helmet, not a neural matrix. "How come you don't have one?"

"One what?" Jason asked, somewhat confused by the conversation.

"I'll explain later," Ratchet said. "Picture a neural scanner combined with a control circuit broadcasting on any frequency at will."

Jason thought about it for a second, looked at the custom helmets that Ratchet and Nick both wore and his eyes suddenly opened wide. "Damn!" he said, rather loudly. "Where'd you get those?"

Ratchet chuckled. "Later... I promise..."

"Does Rich have one?" Jason asked, refusing to let it go as they all walked through the door on the inner wall. They were in a rather featureless round room with doors evenly spaced along the outer wall.

"Indeed," Clank responded. "Based on your reaction, I presume that he did not inform you of this?"

"No," Jason said, and his fur bristled slightly. "And we've known each other fer years. I'm gonna have t' chat with him when I get back."

Nick led them towards the center of the large round room. The space was empty and featureless except for the floor and ceiling: there was a large array of scanning elements and circuitry embedded in the metalwork on both surfaces, protected by a thin layer of clear polymer. Nick turned towards his guests, his voice echoing slightly in the wide empty room. "This is the central hub. Not much t' look at, I know, but from here we can get t' anywhere on the ship. Like I told you, most o' the decks're sealed off from each other, fer safety and security reasons. The patterns in the floor 'n ceiling are the latest in teleporter technology. This entire room's nothin' but a huge teleporter."

Ratchet whistled. He knew a bit about teleporter technology, but this room easily could hold a squadron of fighters, or enough gear to colonize a small planet. "Wow..."

"Yeah," Nick chuckled. "Just think o' the fun we could have with this..."

"I was thinking you could hold an entire squad of fighters here," Ratchet admitted. "Aphelion probably wouldn't like it, though." Nick burst out laughing. Hard. "What?" Ratchet asked, somewhat puzzled by Nick's outburst.

Nick went over to Ratchet and gestured for everyone to gather around him. When they did, Nick's eyes unfocused slightly and a small sensory distorting force field appeared around them. While Ratchet was very familiar with this use of the matrix, Jason was a bit surprised and started probing the edges of the field, looking for a seam, muttering about how he would have to 'chat' with Rich about getting one for him.

"Sorry about the field," Nick quietly said. "But I wanted some privacy. Fighters don't mind the teleport, as long as they know ahead o' time." Looking between Clank and Ratchet, Nick explained, "Nearly a year ago, I tried it." The lombax's eyes were sunny green mixed with a little white at the fond memory, and his muzzle was split into a huge, playful grin. "Waterman was really gettin' on my tail fer somethin' 'r another; I don' even remember fer what now. But he was rubbin' my fur the wrong way, so I decided t' get even. A psi fighter onboard named Starfixer had been tryin' t' see the Captain fer months - he had tons o' 'recommendations' and 'comments' about life on The Wrench and he wanted t' share 'em, but the Captain always dodged him. So one night I decided t' get 'em together." Nick had begun chuckling during his retelling and both Ratchet and Clank were smiling as well. "When Starfixer was asleep, I teleported him inta Waterman's suite. Poor dude woke up all confused when the Captain trundled in after his shift 'n started shootin' up the place." Nicholas's chuckle became a full laugh. Ratchet could not help it, he started to laugh too. He knew the amount of damage a fighter could do in an enclosed space like that. "Took me _weeks_ t' fix everything, but It Was Worth It! After the initial fireworks, the Captain and Starfixer spent some 'quality time' while me 'n my crew tried t' rescue 'em. The bulk teleporter somehow went inoperative and couldn't get a lock..."

Ratchet doubled over laughing. Yeah... He could see Nick doing that.

"Anyhoo, Waterman knows I did it, but he can't prove it; I wiped all the logs 'n there wasn't a shred o' evidence showing what happened. But he knows. And he knows I know he knows. It's a bit of a game..." Nick stopped laughing, but the smile stayed on his muzzle. Becoming a little more serious, he added, "I think that's what got Waterman t' finally respect me: both the prank itself 'n the fact that I could cover it. We've been okay ever since." Nick glanced at the field around them, smiling again. "But that doesn't mean he's given up tryin' to prove it. So I'm careful."

"What'll he do to you if he finds out?" Ratchet asked. Clank nodded, somewhat concerned for Nicholas.

"Nothin," Nick answered. "He knows he went too far that time, 'n he knows better now." Nick smiled again. "But it would take all the fun outta life."

Everyone chuckled at that for a few moments. When the laughter subsided, Nick released the force field and led them to the center of the room, where a smaller, standard teleport pad waited. "It really doesn't matter where you are in the room, but why waste power if you don't have to..."

* * *


	7. Chapter 05

**Chapter 5: Blackline**

Nicholas, Ratchet, Clank and Jason materialized on an observation deck located above a large semi-circular room. The curved wall was lined with storage cabinets of all shapes and sizes, each one clearly marked with a part name or number in lombax, while the far wall was flat, but made of a closely woven type of metallic mesh, with interlocking strands fused together to make the structure rigid. Beyond it, and clearly visible through the openings in the mesh, were a series of glowing cylinders arranged in a symmetrical pattern. Ratchet did a quick count and realized that these twelve devices were part of the array of main translight thrusters they had seen from outside the ship. This central nexus must be the origin for all twelve engines.

Arranged in the hemisphere below him were six different stations on either side of a central raised platform situated just below the observation deck and its safety rail. Each station had a series of display units arranged around three control panels, along with an inertial damping system, grip rails and a tall chair bolted securely to the floor. A different crew member, lombax or robot, was standing at each of the six stations, adjusting controls, verifying readings or otherwise looking very busy.

The seventh chair on the raised platform just below the observation deck had a significantly different configuration. There were no control panels at this station, but the platform was surrounded by seven different monitors, arranged in a circular grouping. These were situated in front of another series of inertial damping grip rails, but the chairs that were bolted into the floor at the other stations were nothing like what was on the central platform. From the look of the damaged section on the floor, the original chair had been forcefully ripped from its moorings. In it its place was a rather worn and somewhat tattered leather recliner, footrest extended, positioned directly in front of the readouts. There was a small beverage holder in the right armrest of the chair, with an empty flask wedged in it. The battered chair was leaking a bit of padding in a few spots and looked significantly out of place among the sleek, metallic lines of the engine room.

"Hey!" Nicholas shouted above the chatter of the crew below. The six engineers on the various stations turned to look. There was a chorus of "Hey" and "Hey, Nick" from them, then they turned back to their original tasks.

Nick put his hand out and vaulted over the railing. In a well practiced move, he dropped the two cubit distance and landed with a loud floomph into the waiting recliner. Ratchet noticed a bit of stuffing blown out of one of the tears and realized exactly how the recliner got that way. "Come on down," Nick called out. "There's a button on the wall t' yer right."

Ratchet glanced around, found the button and pushed it. An energy platform appeared next to the observation deck. After he, Clank and Jason climbed on, the platform slowly sunk until it was level with Nick and the chair he was lounging on. Ratchet moved to stand next to Nick on his right, Clank in front of him, Jason a little further to the right.

Nick looked at the flask wedged into the arm of the chair, saw that it was empty and looked at Jason. Handing the squadron leader the empty container, he said, "Could ya do me a favor? The dispenser's just behind ya. Extra strong. Thanks."

Jason, torn between beating Nick over the head with the flask and utter shock that Nick would even request such a thing, merely muttered darkly to himself and complied. He brought the refilled flask back to Nicholas. Petrov's son sipped at the sludge, grinned and said, "Thanks."

"Let's get the introductions outta the way 'n get on with it," Nicholas called out. The other engineers stopped what they were doing and turned toward him. Taking out a photon beam generator from his pocket, Nick focused it into a coherent stream and pointed it at Ratchet. The lombax shifted slightly: the green dot reminded him uncomfortably of a weapon scope.

"This is my brother Ratchet from the LCC. He's the one behind the joy juice we're testin' out today. If it works, we owe him big fer makin' us the fastest ship in the fleet."

There was a cheer from the engineers on the floor. Ratchet waved and muttered, "Hey."

"Over here," Nick continued, pointing the photon generator at Clank, "is my friend Clank. And before anyone asks, yes, he's THE Clank. Autographs can wait, though."

There was another, slightly louder cheer from below. Clank gave a small wave, and then moved into one of the Clank-fu stances he made so popular on the Secret Agent Clank series. Three of the six engineers started applauding before Nick brought things under control.

"And here," he said, pointing the beam at Jason, "is Jason Positron, a good friend o' my sister's mate. He's with the LDM and he's Ratchet's official watch 'bax for this trip. We should still be nice to 'm anyway."

Jason chuckled a little, and there was a polite greeting from the room below.

"Starting on the right," Nick said, pointing the beam down at the engineers in the room below, starting with the lombax on the far right, "is Sebastian Kinetic working at the translight panel." Nicholas moved the beam over to the next station. "Next up is R0V39. She's handling inertial engines. Bad luck on this trip, Roh. Sorry about that. Moving on, this is Siggy - Sigma 587 Gamma 3. He's on data control and encryption. On my left, you've got Alpha 1 dash 306. Alph's gonna be busy - he's handling the fuel flow and mixing." Nick chuckled to himself and turned to Clank. "He's a natural at mixin' stuff; he's the one I got the Ytterbium recipe from." Clank nodded, remembering the dessert. "This furball," Nick chuckled, indicating the next engineer in line - another lombax, "is Devon Ionosphere. Dev's workin' the environmental station, so he's the one responsible fer the air yer breathin'. Finally there's Gamma Beta 39. Gamma Beta's on the aux panel, and can take over and assist anyone on the floor."

Nicholas twisted slightly in the chair, rested his arm on the backrest and spoke to Ratchet, Clank and Jason. "That's the crew. There's usually only two of 'em 'n me. But we're all curious to see how yer additive works, so all three shifts 're here." Ratchet nodded. He could certainly understand that.

Nick twisted back in his seat, rested his feet on the recliner's outstretched cushions and looked up at the monitors arranged above him. A replica of each of the six stations primary statistics was visible projected onto the transparent material. The center screen was blank. "All set?" Nick called out.

One by one, the engineers on the floor acknowledged, some with a formal statement, others with a simple "Yeah."

Nick nodded. "Why don'tcha stand behind me so you can watch the monitors. This'll be pretty cool." Ratchet and Jason stood behind Nick, Clank just to Nick's right. When everyone was in place, he called out, "Show time!" Immediately, the engineers turned back to their stations. Ratchet, watching them in action, saw that they all looked extremely busy, but were not actually doing anything significant or productive on their controls. In fact, Siggy nearby had brought up a still image of a rather attractive looking female robot, Alph was playing solitaire while Devon and Gamma Beta were watching a Courtney Gears video on Gamma's console.

Nick's eyes unfocused slightly. In the center monitor, the single red optic of Captain Waterman appeared. "Captain Waterman," Nick said in a rather formal tone. "We are ready to begin the first phase of testing. With your permission, we would like to form a baseline."

"Acknowledged, Mr. Neutrino," Waterman's booming voice echoed back, projected through the entire engineering room. "Prepare for baseline. We are moving away from the dock and setting course for open space. I will contact you when we are ready to begin."

"Acknowledged," Nick said and the center display faded.

"Inertial engines online," Roh said. "We're underway."

Nick looked at the monitor and saw that was the case. "Cool," he muttered.

"What are the parameters for your testing?" Clank asked, somewhat curious as to what Nick had in store.

"Well," Nick explained, "we're gonna do this in stages. Once we get to open space, were gonna go translight perpendicular to the galactic plane. We'll push the engines as far as we can first, then take a baseline reading. Once we've got that, we'll start injecting Ratchet's additive. We'll get as much speed as we can with the ACLR's recommended mix, then I'll see if I can get Waterman to go fer my tweaks. I wanna see how fast we can push her..."

There was a warning tone and Captain Waterman's rather intimidating optic appeared in the center display. "Mr. Neutrino, you are clear for baseline."

"Thank you, sir. Stand by." Nick's eyes unfocused and the engineers below actually did become busy, adjusting their controls and keeping a careful eye or optic on their monitors. Nick watched the displays in front of him, but his eyes were slightly unfocused the entire while. Jason, Clank and Ratchet all watched in silent anticipation as the lombax worked.

Other than a slight change in the wavelength of visible light thrown from the translight cylinders, nothing appeared to change. Ratchet, watching the displays from behind Nick, could see that their speed was climbing steadily. But suddenly the speed leveled out; Nick's eyes were unfocused, but he raised his hand in a searching gesture. The engineers on the floor paused, looking at him expectantly.

"'Bastian," Nick said, not looking at the lombax on the floor. "There's somethin' wrong with number seven's power feed. Check fer a burned conduit."

"Yes, Nick," Sebastian said, moving away from his station towards a teleporter in the center of the room.

"Siggy, go with 'm," Nick continued. "If it's what I think it is, it'll be too thermally active fer him t' touch, even with gloves. Bring a spare with ya, just in case."

"Yes, Nick," the robot responded. He went to one of the storage units that lined the perimeter of the room, withdrew a small lombax component and joined Sebastian on the teleporter pad. In a flash of energy, they were gone.

"Captain," Nick said to the blank central display. Waterman's red optic appeared, but he did not say a word. "I suspect we have a fused power feed on translight seven. We're investigating now. Stand by."

"Acknowledged," was the only thing the captain said in reply, and the link disconnected.

"Charming, isn't he?" Ratchet asked, drawing a chuckle from the engineers below.

"He's okay," Nick said. "Just a bit old fashioned. Ya get used to it."

Ratchet chuckled, looking at Nicholas in awe. He was no slouch when it came to thrusters and components, but to identify a fused conduit by feel in a ship this size was hard to even imagine. Ratchet closed his eyes, trying to open his senses to the ship around him. Very gradually, Ratchet felt, or thought he felt, something ... different ... to his right and slightly below him. It was hard to say, really, but... The feeling suddenly vanished, leaving Ratchet wondering if it was ever there to start with.

"Nick?" Siggy's voice sounded across the deck.

"Yeah, Siggy. Go ahead."

"You were right. Sebastian found a dead conduit. It was white hot when we got here. I pulled it and swapped in a spare. We'll be there as soon as we're done closing the access panels."

"Cool," Nicholas said, clearly a bit relieved. "We'll recalibrate up here. Don't rush - we'll wait fer ya for redline." Nick nodded to the engineers below and they all moved about, adjusting their controls. Gamma Beta moved from his station to Sebastian's and began recalibrating and balancing the translight engines with the new component.

There was a chuckle on the other end of the link. Sebastian shouted "Thanks!" and the line disconnected.

"You picked that out by feel?" Jason muttered, utterly amazed. Nick merely smiled, twisted in his seat and propped his feet over the armrest.

"Nick, is engine seven to our right and slightly below us?" Ratchet asked. He could not shake off that weird feeling.

Nick sat up, twisting with his knees in the seat of the chair and his arms crossed over the backrest. Looking into Ratchet's eyes, his own a medium green but edged with a hint of grey, he responded, "Yeah. Why?"

"I..." Ratchet started, but he couldn't complete the thought. He broke of Nick's gaze and looked at Clank. The little robot was watching him very carefully. It was somehow easier for Ratchet to explain this to him; he had been with Clank for a long time now. "I thought I felt somethin' ... strange. It was to our right and a little below us. Just before Siggy said he swapped the part, it went away." Ratchet turned to look at Nick again and the grey was gone from his eyes, replaced by a slightly lighter green. The steady light he always saw there was strong and firm. "Really."

"Uncle Reg was right," Nick said softly. "You _are_ good. Usually it takes months with a new ship t' get that kinda feel for her." The lead engineer smiled. "When ya get paroled," he said, with a meaningful glance at Jason, "look me up if you wanna join us."

Ratchet chuckled. "I'll think about it," he said with a slight grin on his muzzle. "But I think Talwyn would be really pissed."

Nick startled slightly at Talwyn's name. He sighed. "Yeah, yer prob'bly right."

* * *

About a minute later, Sebastian and Siggy materialized in the center of the engineering deck. Siggy held a small lombax component in his right hand, and Ratchet could see that it was still glowing ever so faintly red at the very center. Alph, Roh and Sigma Gamma all shielded their eyes briefly; it must have been extremely bright in infrared. Clank had enabled an optic filter, his normally green eyes slightly bluish.

"Siggy," Nick said in a somewhat distracted voice, "lock it up and let it cool off in my work bin. I'll try t' rebuild it later."

"Yes, Nick," the robot responded, carrying the still very hot component to a small storage locker located just under the raised platform, slightly to the left of where Nick's feet rested on the extended recliner. Ratchet watched as Siggy placed the damaged component alongside two others, a broken torque driver and a circuit board with a slightly melted socket. After closing the locker again, Siggy returned to his station.

Sebastian had already taken his back from Gamma Beta and was validating all of the controls. Gamma Beta looked over from the aux panel and asked, "You do not trust me?" There was a slightly hurt tone in his voice.

"Sure I do," Sebastian said, glancing at the robot briefly before turning to his panel once more. "But I've gotta check anyway, you know that."

There was a chuckle from Gamma Beta. "I know," he said. "Protocol..."

"Are we ready?" Nick asked, taking his eyes off the displays and looking down at his team. There was a nod of ascent from each engineer. A smile spread across Nick's muzzle. "Cool." Unfocusing his eyes slightly, he stared at all six monitors at the same time.

Ratchet glanced at Clank. The robot was staring at Nick's eyes. Ratchet's ears twitched slightly at the lack of focus there. "What 'r ya lookin' at?" he asked.

"Shhh..." Nick quietly hissed back. After a moment, he said, "I'm usin' the matrix t' cross check all of the systems... We're good t' go." He looked down at the crew again, smiling. "Show time!" he said again. The engineering staff immediately made themselves look busy, without actually changing any of the settings on the consoles. "Captain?"

The center display immediately filled with Captain Waterman's red optic. "Yes, Mr. Neutrino?"

"Mr. Kinetic and Sigma 587 Gamma 3 have located and replaced a fused power feed on translight seven. We are ready to resume baseline test."

There was a slight flicker in the normally steady red optic. "Good work, gentlemen," the captain said. "Resume baseline testing at your convenience. Inform me once baseline is established." The screen went dark and the link disconnected.

There was a somewhat stunned look on the engineers' faces, especially on Sebastian's. Nick merely smiled. "Great job, guys," he said. "Even the captain noticed." There was a small burst of applause led by Devon, but spreading rapidly to the others. Sebastian laughed a little and made a rather overly theatrical bow, gesturing for Siggy to do the same. The robot merely shook his head and chuckled slightly.

Nick took a sip of the sludge from the flask in his armrest. It was still very hot; Ratchet could see steam rising from it. Peering over the back of the chair and Nick, he noticed that thermal elements had been retrofitted into the cup holder, presumably by Nick to keep his beverage hot. It was nice to know that the engineer had well established priorities...

"Okay, folks," Nick said. "Where were we?"

The engineers moved back to their stations and validated the controls. Nick's eyes unfocused again. Ratchet could see the speed indicators increasing again. While he knew that distance was somewhat irrelevant in a wormhole, they were still easily doing 200 petacubits per second. He shook his head and whistled slightly.

Nick smirked, glancing over his shoulder briefly. "This is nothin'," he muttered. "Jus' wait..."

Sebastian did not take his eyes from his console, but called out, "Baseline, Nick!"

Nick nodded. "Captain, we have achieved baseline. Request permission to proceed to redline."

Captain Waterman appeared in the monitor again. "Acknowledged baseline. Document current status, then proceed to redline test. Permission granted. Inform me at redline."

Jason looked over at Ratchet. "Uh, what's baseline?"

Ratchet shrugged his shoulders slightly; he did not know either, but looked up at the displays. "It looks like 200 petacubits per second..."

"Baseline," Nick explained, not taking his eyes off the monitors, "is max speed. 200 pps is the normal max cruising speed for a flagship, but we've been known t' get 'er up t' 265 pps in a pinch." Nick gave a rather chilling, sinister laugh. "Not fer long, though. Alph... Pump it!"

"Yes, Nick," he eagerly replied. The robot adjusted his console controls slightly. Ratchet watched the fuel intake display. He could see that his additive was being slowly introduced into the fuel feed. The speed indicator on the translight panel jumped.

"250..." Sebastian slowly counted. "300... 400... 500..."

The velocity readout on Nick's panel blanked out, having reached its maximum value. Sebastian kept counting.

"600... 700..."

"How is he getting those numbers?" Ratchet asked Clank quietly, so as not to disturb the crew at work.

"I believe that the value it within the tolerance of the main station, but not for the auxiliary panels," Clank answered. "It may also be that he is computing the speed based on the distance traveled from a fixed beacon."

"New Fastoon," Jason quietly gasped.

"800... 900..."

Ratchet's ears were twitching, his eyes were wide and a silly grin was fixed on his muzzle. He had never travelled this fast in his entire life. Faster!

"1000! We have 1000 pps!" Sebastian's voice was ecstatic. There was a slight cheer among the engineers in the room.

Ratchet wanted more. "Faster!" he barked out loud.

The crew just looked at him strangely. Nick chuckled, twisted in his seat to stare at Ratchet. Clank was slightly disturbed to see that Nick had the same silly grin on his muzzle. Lombaxes... "Eventually..." Nick drawled softly, trying to placate Ratchet. Settling back into his chair, feet propped on the recliner, Nick called out, "Status?"

All six stations reported normal operation in sequence. Nick looked at Alpha 1 dash 306. "You heard my brother," he said, nodding his head behind him to where Ratchet stood. "Faster!"

Alph was happy to oblige, adjusting his controls to increase the additive to fuel ratio. They were still under the theoretical maximum provided by the ACLR. Their speed continued to increase and the translight engines grew brighter, the wavelength they emitted already well into the blue spectrum. Sebastian was staring at his console, his hands carefully adjusting the controls, verifying that all of the engines remained in perfect balance. He resumed his count.

"1100... 12..."

Nick calmly took a sip of his sludge as though nothing was happening. Ratchet had to admire his cool competence. Looking around at the engineers, Ratchet knew that while they were working the controls, it was Nick that ran the show.

"13..." Sebastian paused. "1350..."

"We are near the ACLR's recommended maximum," Alph said.

"1375..."

"Status?" Nick asked.

"Environmental is stable," Devon reported.

"Inertial, stable," Roh reported.

"Data control, stable," Siggy reported.

"Translight... insanely stable given the circumstances," Sebastian said. "1380 petacubits per second."

"Fuel mix at ACLR maximum," Alph repeated.

Nick nodded. "Folks, we have redline." With a huge smile on his face, he said, "Captain?" Waterman's optic appeared again. "Captain, we have redline. Maximum recommended speed, 1380 petacubits per second." Ratchet watching from behind Nick saw Captain Waterman's optic flicker yet again, wavering in intensity as it adjusted slightly from left to right. "Request permission for blackline test."

There was a long pause. Finally, when Waterman spoke, the robot seemed to be very formal and disciplined. But Ratchet heard, or thought he heard, a slight tremor of emotion, perhaps joy, perhaps excitement, maybe a mix of both, in the Captain's deep voice. "Acknowledged. Redline. 1380 petacubits per second. Thank you, gentlemen. Permission granted for blackline test." There was a pause. "Good luck." The Captain disconnected.

There was silence in the room as all of the engineers stared at Nick in his recliner. The lombax took another sip of his sludge, wedged the flask into the armrest, looked over the room and grinned. Nick nodded. "Blackline."

At his word, there was a flurry of activity below. Alph said, "Increasing the additive to fuel ratio beyond ACLR recommendations."

Sebastian began counting again. "1390... 14..."

Jason shook his head back and forth in awe. As a squadron leader, he was used to high speed maneuvers, but never on a magnitude that they were doing now. His jaw was slightly open as he watched the proceedings.

Ratchet looked on eagerly, his hands locked on the backrest of Nick's chair, eyes glued to the monitors and that silly grin stuck on his face. The tips of his ears continued to twitch, and his tail lashed eagerly, sweeping the area below and behind him.

Clank looked on, wishing for something to grab on to. He knew it was merely psychological, but he could not get over the urge to grab something. Nick seemed very calm and relaxed. "If I may," Clank began, "what exactly is a 'blackline' test?"

Nick grinned, not taking his sunny green eyes off the monitors for an instant. "Blackline is basically a max endurance test. We're basically gonna keep goin' until somethin' breaks."

"Oh..." Clank said very quietly, not at all reassured, especially with everything he knew about lombaxes.

"1500..."

"We've gotta know," Nick said, "in case we've gotta do this fer real someday."

"Yeah," Ratchet added. "It's not like we're doin' this jus' fer fun..." The smile on his face made it incredibly clear that it was not true.

"1600..."

"Sorry, Nick," Alph said. There was a slight groan on the engineering floor. "Storage tanks are approaching critical levels. We need to reserve enough additive for the return journey.

"1650..."

Nick nodded. "Blackline. Log status and disengage additive mix."

"Maximum speed reached, 1670 petacubits per second." Sebastian almost shouted the number.

"Cool," Nick drawled slowly. The grin still on his muzzle, he twisted in the chair, propping his feet over one of the armrests. He stared back at Ratchet. "Baseline to redline over 500% improvement. Not bad, eh?"

Ratchet chuckled. "Yeah," he said. "And you were teasing me that we wouldn't make 400..."

"Status logged," Alph said. "Additive offline. We are at steady state."

Nick twisted in his chair again. "Excellent..." he drawled. "Captain?" Waterman's optic appeared again. "Blackline achieved. The test was terminated to preserve enough additive for the return journey. Maximum velocity achieved was 1670 petacubits per second. This is _not_ a hard limit - if we had more additive, we might've gotten a little more speed out of her."

Captain Waterman's optic flickered a little. In a voice that betrayed more than a hint of pride, he replied, "Excellent work, Mr. Neutrino. Please congratulate your staff for me. Have them document the results of this experiment and return us to steady state."

"Already completed, Captain," Nick answered.

"Very good," Waterman replied. "The science crew is requesting a few hours to perform some astronomical observations. Have your crew stand down until further notice; they have earned it."

"Yes, sir," Nick answered.

Waterman did not disconnect. Instead his optic traveled upwards to look at Ratchet standing behind Nicholas, and the lombax would have sworn that it darkened slightly. "What arrangements have you made for our... guests?" Again, the word 'guests' conveyed more than a little annoyance. Ratchet bristled slightly; after all, it was his additive that made all this possible.

"They'll be staying with me until we return to New Fastoon," Nick replied.

"Very well," Waterman replied. "Have a good evening." Then, as though noticing Ratchet again, the captain added, "At least, as best as possible under the circumstances." The link disconnected.

* * *


	8. Chapter 06

**Chapter 6: Long Distance**

"Don't let it bother ya, Ratchet," Nick said as he jostled the pan on the small prep center. With Devon and Siggy remaining on call for the engineering staff, Nick had brought Clank, Ratchet and Jason back to his own quarters. The lombax had teleported them all into his cabin on The Wrench after shutting down non-critical systems to allow the science teams the time they needed for their astronomical research.

Ratchet looked around. Considering they were on board a ship, where every cubic cubit of space had to be carefully allocated and accounted for, Nick's cabin was relatively roomy. It had a common meeting space with two overstuffed recliners and a small table, along with a rather small but effective prep center. Off to one side was an alcove with a single bed in it. The other side held an alcove with a sanitization unit and an electrostatic cleaner. Sadly, there was no hydroshower, but it would have been a rather inefficient use of water on the spaceship.

Nick was currently preparing dinner for himself, Jason Positron and Ratchet. Clank had taken advantage of a basic power coupling near the small table. Jason was leaning back in one of the recliners, studying the star charts and looking at the results of the experiment.

"I'm not," Ratchet said, watching Nick cook. It was not completely true, but it really didn't bother him all that much. After all, the additive worked, and he and his friends in the ACLR had significantly improved the range and capability of the lombax fleet. But even with all of that, he still had a somewhat empty feeling. "It's just... With all we did, Waterman still treats me like a groundling."

"Do not be concerned, Ratchet," Clank said. "When he has time to review the data, I am certain that he will be impressed with the results."

"Yeah," Ratchet admitted. Looking over at Nick, he said, "Ya did a great job!"

"Thanks," Nick answered, taking a small taste from the pot he was working with. Ratchet did not know what it was, but it smelled very appetizing. Nick opened a storage bin, removed a small vial and distributed a tiny amount of some kind of bright green powder over the pot. There was a sudden, violent hissing sound when the powder made contact. "But it was a group effort. How hot d' ya want this? Boring, bland, or 'beg fer mercy'?"

Jason and Ratchet said 'beg for mercy' at the exact same time. Nick nodded, muttered, "Good choice," and pulled out another vial with small red flakes in it.

"Are those Phyrettic pod flecks?" Ratchet asked.

Nick answered with a mere, "Yup," as he lightly sprinkled a few over the pot. There was no immediate reaction, but the cooking aromas in the room increased significantly.

"Where d'ya get 'em?" Ratchet asked. "I tried some o' Jacek's multistrata that yer dad ordered - wow!"

Nick chuckled. "The Wrench does a lotta movin' around."

"I'll say," Jason said wryly. "Clank, is this right?" he asked, holding up his calculations and the star charts to Clank. "If my math checks out, we traveled nearly a whole zetacubit in about ten minutes!"

Ratchet turned from Nick to stare at Jason. A zetacubit? Half the diameter of the entire galaxy in ten minutes? That was beyond impressive; that was downright scary! "Is that right?" he asked.

Clank nodded. "That is correct Ratchet, Deputy Positron."

"Jason. Please."

"Very well, Jason. Granted, it was not a whole zetacubit, nor were we at maximum velocity the entire time. But we did travel a significant distance."

"I'll say," Nick broke in. "The science team was shocked. They're gettin' as much data as they can right now, remapping a whole bunch o' star charts. We might need t' work on endurance, but for sheer speed and sprints, The Wrench is the fastest thing in this dimension." The lombax deactivated the prep surface and brought the pot to the small table. "Sorry. I didn't steal any plates from Jacek before we left. My fault." He handed a fork to Ratchet and Jason, holding one in his hand as well as he carefully placed the pan on an insulated region of the table's surface. "Careful, it's hot."

"What is it?" Ratchet asked, taking a tentative forkful. He tried it - mmmm! It was very good; nice and spicy, but well balanced and without the overwhelming burn Ratchet had with the multistrata.

Nick laughed. With his eyes bright, he asked in return, "Do you really wanna know?"

Ratchet thought about it for a second, shook his head 'no' and began eating in earnest. Jason had a somewhat suspicious look on his face. "It's not scree, is it?"

"Nah..." Nick drawled, the steady light in his eyes twinkling slightly as he took a forkful of the meal. "Besides, where 'm I gonna get fresh scree way out here?"

* * *

Nick never did tell them what was in that dish, but the three lombaxes enjoyed every bit of it, leaving no leftovers. Ratchet loaded the pan and forks into the sterilizer while Jason got comfortable and dozed off in one of the two recliners. Nick sat on his bunk and was talking with Clank.

"If ya want," Nick said, "I could check with Alph. He might have some Ytterbium in his quarters..."

"There is no need to disturb him," Clank said. "I am fine, thank you."

"Okay. But if there's anything you need, let me know."

"I will. Thank you."

Nick looked over at Ratchet. "Have you heard anything more from Talwyn? How's Melody?"

"I haven't heard," Ratchet answered. "But given Mel's comments last time I called, they might be a while..."

"That bad?" Nick asked as he lounged back on the narrow bed.

"Put it this way," Ratchet answered, "when she knew it was me on the link, she offered t' help Talwyn cut off my reproductive organs with a phase knife..."

"Ouch!" Nick said, sitting up rapidly, his eyes darkening slightly. "That's harsh!"

"Yeah," Ratchet agreed, sealing the sterilizer and moving to sit in the other recliner. "I figure I'll leave them alone. When Talwyn's ready, she'll call..."

"I believe that is a wise suggestion, Ratchet," Clank agreed.

"And Nikki wonders why I won't get bonded..." Nicholas said, leaning back in the bed once more.

There was a very quiet chime. Ratchet at first thought it was his comm crystal, but it was inactive. Nicholas sat up in bed again. "Yeah?" he said out loud. Ratchet noticed his crystal was active, so the call must have been for him.

Nicholas did not say another word out loud, but his expression darkened significantly. The sunny green in his eyes quickly overshadowed, his ears and tail both drooped. Ratchet sat up in the recliner, somewhat concerned. Clank also looked at Nick expectantly. Finally, Nick's comm crystal went dark. Nick's head was slightly bowed, and he shook it back and forth.

"Bad news," Nicholas said.

Ratchet and Clank both pretty much knew that already. "What has happened?" Clank asked.

"Gamma Beta's developed a severe system fault," Nick said sadly. "Devon went by to see him after his shift. They're both like the same music and Gamma Beta picked up a few new recordings on New Fastoon. Anyway, Devon stopped by and found him unresponsive. They've teleported him to the medical station, but there's nothing we can really do for him here." Nick took a deep breath, and continued in a worried voice, "Waterman's notified the ACLR. They're tryin' t' get a hold of Doctor 3X729PW1. He does all of Waterman's personal maintenance; from what he told me, he's really good..."

"Ratchet," Clank said, "that is the same physician that is working on the transD comm bot. Perhaps Rich might be able to assist."

Ratchet agreed. "Gimme a minute," he muttered, activating his comm crystal.

"Okay," Nick said sadly. "Thanks, Ratchet." There was a pause as Nick lay back down in bed, staring at the ceiling above him. "He seemed fine during the tests. I don't know what happened..."

"I know that you are concerned," Clank said, trying to comfort Nicholas, "but there is nothing more that can be done at this time. Please try to relax. Everything possible will be done to help Gamma Beta."

"I know," Nick said simply.

Ratchet, meanwhile, established a link with Rich. Doctor 3X7 had finished examined the comm bot and found extensive software damage combined with significant memory loss. The comm bot was expected to recover, but it would take weeks of restoration work. Rich was with Doctor 3X7 at the time and gave him a brief summary about Gamma Beta; the doctor would be waiting for The Wrench's return. But Rich also asked that Ratchet try to get his system specs and maintenance history as soon as possible.

Rich also let Ratchet know that Melody was still normalizing, but was beginning to show hints that it was almost over. Rich considered that a good sign, but Nichole still recommended that Reg and Justin stay far away until she was completely back to normal.

Ratchet updated Nick on what he found out. "Is there any way I can get Gamma Beta's specs and maintenance history?"

Nick shook his head. "I don't have access to that," he said. "You'd have to go to Waterman for personnel records."

"Can I be of assistance?" Clank asked. "I can likely override the security..."

"No," Nicholas said, shaking his head. "You don't wanna try it. Trust me - I built some o' those systems; they fight back."

Ratchet did not want to wait. He activated his comm crystal. "Captain Waterman? Ratchet here."

Nicholas and Clank went silent, waiting to hear what Ratchet would say. They did not have to wait long.

"Minister Ratchet," Captain Waterman's booming bass voice sounded in Ratchet's head. There was a significantly annoyed tone to the sound. "How may I be of service?"

"Captain," Ratchet explained, "a friend o' mine on New Fastoon knows Doctor 3X729PW1. He's worked with him in the past and he's with the doctor now. I contacted him when I found out about Gamma Beta, and my friend asked me to get Gamma's system specs and maintenance records." Ratchet paused for a moment, then continued, "I know it's weird, but could you release those records to me? I'll get them t' Rich Quantum, my friend, and he'll pass them to 3X7 in the ACLR. Maybe they'll be able to help."

Ratchet paused. There was silence for nearly fifteen long seconds. Finally, Waterman's voice sounded over Ratchet's comm link. "Acknowledged. I will transmit the files to your datalink. Thank you for your assistance." The link disconnected abruptly.

"What'd he say?" Nick asked.

"He agreed," Ratchet answered. "He's gonna send the files to my datalink. In fact..." Ratchet checked and the files had already arrived, neatly compressed and labeled.

Nick sat up, slightly surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah... Downloading now," Ratchet said, closing his eyes and transmitting the information from his datalink to Rich back on New Fastoon. When he was done, Ratchet looked at Nicholas. The lombax was still worried, but had visibly relaxed a great deal now that the specs were in the ACLR's hands. "Don't worry, Nick. He'll be okay."

"Thanks, Ratchet," Nick said. Glancing at Jason snoring lightly in the other recliner, he added, "Why don't we get some sleep. It'll be busy tomorrow; the scientists will be done 'n we'll head fer home."

"Okay," Ratchet said. "Good idea."

"Clank, I don't have a hyperband link for you," Nicholas explained, sounding apologetic, "but you can tap into The Wrench's library. There's lots of stuff there."

"Thank you, Nick," Clank said. "I have already discovered the library and I have been working my way through it."

Nick chuckled. He used his neural matrix to dim the lighting to minimal, removed his cap, placing it on the right corner post of his bed, rolled over and began snoring almost immediately. Ratchet removed his matrix as well, leaned back in the rather comfortable recliner and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

"Wake up, Ratchet!"

Ugh. Ratchet slowly stirred. Clank rarely woke him up like this and when he did it was usually for a really good reason. Muttering "I'm up," almost coherently, the lombax rubbed at his face with his hands. Opening his eyes and looking around, he knew immediately that something was wrong.

Ratchet was still in Nick's cabin, Jason was pulling on his boots in the recliner across from him. Nick was not in bed, but a quick glance around the small living chamber showed him in the other alcove, one hand on the electrostatic cleaner, the other brushing the fur around his ears. The room itself was filled with a fiery glow; Ratchet looked up and saw that red alarm filaments in the illumination grid were active. _ding_

Quickly getting to his feet, Ratchet put his neural matrix on and went over to where Nick had just finished with the cleaning sphere. He put his own hand on it and the field surrounded him. As the tingling and slightly itchy sensation of the cleaner doing its work filled his senses, Ratchet asked Nick, "What's goin' on?"

Nick was still rather calm and relaxed, as though this happened every day, but one look in his grey green eyes told Ratchet that this situation was far from normal. "Captain Waterman's sounded the general alarm," Nick said. His voice was perfectly normal. "He wants to see us in his office as soon as possible." _ding_

The electrostatic cleaner had finished its cycle and Ratchet moved out of the small alcove, doing a quick check of his gear to make sure he had everything and that his equipment was ready. Jason moved to the cleaner and put his hand on it as well. "Any idea why?" Ratchet asked.

"Not a clue," Nick answered, shaking his head slightly. "But in all my years on The Wrench, this is the first time Waterman used the general alarm; fer real at least." _ding_

Jason walked over towards them. "We'd better get moving," he said.

Nick nodded. "Everyone ready?" he asked. Clank, Ratchet and Jason all nodded. "Okay, gather 'round. I'll blink us up there..."

Everyone gathered close to Nicholas. There was a brief and rather odd sensation: for a fraction of an instant, Ratchet thought he saw the round teleporter room in the central hub, but that quickly faded and Ratchet found himself in a fairly large office, nearly the size of Nick's living quarters. There was a desk made of some kind of alloy, not raritanium but something more structural, possibly titanium or steel. Ratchet glanced around quickly.

The walls and available space was filled with various antiques and memorabilia. Display cases held ancient artifacts from over two dozen civilizations; most were weapons of some sort, but a few contained navigational aids or items that Ratchet could not identify at all. After glancing around quickly, the lombax found his eyes drawn to one display in particular - under the transparent protective dome was a very primitive and _very_ old blaster. Ratchet studied it carefully. He was always curious about weapons and technology; this looked almost exactly like one of the very first prototype blasters ever made... He had only seen still images and reproductions in the Azimuth Memorial Museum - it couldn't actually be a real...

"It is a lassiter, Minister Ratchet," Captain Waterman's voice boomed. Ratchet spun somewhat guiltily. The huge robot was standing behind his desk, having entered through a door just beyond it that Ratchet had not noticed initially. The blue coolant gurgled through the tubing around Waterman's barrel-like chest. "Not that you have ever heard of them before. It was issued to me when I was given my first command. The Comet was only a scouting vessel, but she was fast for her day."

A real lassiter? Ratchet's mind spun. They had not been manufactured for over three thousand years, but were the first energy weapon ever devised by the lombax species. If Waterman was presented with one on his first command... The lombax looked up at the robot in awe, a new respect growing within him. "I know all about the lassiter," Ratchet said, still somewhat stunned and with a sense of wonder in his voice. "I studied 'em while researching with some friends o' mine in the CALR. I've never seen the real thing before." Ratchet looked into Captain Waterman's red optic, and there was an eager look in his eyes. "Does it work?"

Captain Waterman's optic flickered slightly. "Not at the moment," he said, his voice echoing in the small room, even though the captain's tone was somewhat softer. "I removed the power cell. The chemical storage mechanism tends to deteriorate over time, releasing caustic compounds. It would eventually damage the weapon if left in place." Waterman's optic darkened slightly and his voice returned to its normal rather booming intensity. "But that is not why I summoned you, or have issued a general alarm."

Clank and the three lombaxes waited expectantly. "Your reputation appears to be exceedingly accurate, Minister Ratchet; trouble does follow you wherever you go. I received a communication," Captain Waterman explained, "from Regional Minister Richard Quantum..."

"Rich?" Ratchet interrupted. Nick's eyes grew slightly darker; he knew what his captain's response would likely be to the interruption. "Did he have any news about Gamma Beta?"

"No," Waterman replied, rather firmly. "The topic did not come up. He seemed to believe that the urgent distress call he received from the Lombax Embassy in Polaris was a higher priority."

That silenced Ratchet immediately. The Embassy... Apogee Station... Jaz Parallax... The lombax nodded to the captain, allowing him to continue.

"It would appear that a band of pirates attacked the station," Waterman continued. "The ambassador was uninjured, being on a nearby asteroid at the time. However, the pirates have taken control of the station for unknown reasons. We are to remain on alert in the event that our assistance is required."

"On alert?" Ratchet asked, stunned. "What about Jaz?" The pirates attacked the Apogee Station? Ratchet bristled at the very thought of it.

"She is uninjured and is in a secure location. The ambassador is not in any immediate danger. The LDM is assembling a team of deputies to investigate, and they have already disabled the station's transD equipment via remote."

Ratchet swore quietly. It would take too long. "Come on, Clank," he said. "Let's go."

"Go?" Captain Waterman echoed Ratchet's word. "Go where?"

"Where d' ya think?" Ratchet replied, his voice raised a little in a mix of anger and frustration.

"You are not going anywhere, Minister Ratchet," Waterman replied, his voice also taking on a bit of an edge. "I have not given you permission to depart. Regional Minister Quantum gave me specific instructions that you should remain on The Wrench... unless otherwise instructed."

A growl rose in Ratchet's throat. Staring at Captain Waterman's red optic, he said in a carefully controlled tone, "I've gotta get back to New Fastoon. I've gotta get to the Apogee Station."

"I understand your desire," Waterman said very evenly, not responding to Ratchet's anger, "I even share it. But I have been given direct orders." There was absolute finality to that statement, but there was also a suggestive tone, as if there was something more.

But it was not what Ratchet wanted to hear. The growl in Ratchet's throat grew louder and his eyes narrowed in anger.

"Captain?" Nicholas said, looking at Ratchet.

"Yes, Mr. Neutrino?"

"Can I explain this to my brother?" Nick casually waved his gloved hand towards Ratchet. Ratchet noticed that Nick's eyes were no longer grey and were a slightly lighter shade of green then they were before. Chuckling slightly, Nick continued, "He tends to be a little thick when he gets like this." Ratchet turned to him, unamused.

"Permission granted," Waterman said.

"Ratchet," Nicholas began in his slow, calm voice. "Be reasonable. It'll take Aphelion at least ten hours flight time, even with your additive, to get t' New Fastoon. Once you get there, she'll need to rest. There's no way you can get their quickly enough t' matter. At least, not without our help."

Ratchet looked up in surprise.

Nicholas nodded. "Captain Waterman said that he would like to help, but that he was given direct orders to keep you here. Those orders came from Rich."

Jason looked at Nick, shook his head and muttered, "Don't..."

Nick stared into Ratchet's eyes, and Ratchet again noticed that steady, confident gleam there, as stable as a navigational beacon. Nick smiled and in a very innocent tone asked, "What security level is Rich?"

Ratchet's ears suddenly perked up. The growl vanished and a smile slowly spread across his muzzle. Grinning, he nodded to Nick and looked over at Clank. Clank was also smiling and nodded his approval back to Ratchet. "Ratchet," Clank said, "The Wrench is capable of transdimensional portals." Jason looked extremely unhappy, his ears drooped and his tail was low.

Ratchet nodded. "I know, Clank. But thanks for reminding me."

"Captain Waterman," Ratchet began, turning to face the ancient warbot. The captain's optic swung to him. "I would like to apologize for my behavior. Nick's right - sometimes I miss the obvious. I just want to help Jaz and deal with the renegades..." His voice trailed off as he thought of the pirates, then grew confident yet again. "Captain, disregard Regional Minister Quantum's orders. Charge the transD systems and set the destination for the Apogee Station in Polaris. Authorization code gamma six."

* * *


	9. Chapter 07

**Chapter 7: Ambassadors and Pirates**

Ratchet, Clank and Jason were waiting in Nick's quarters. Captain Waterman had left to go back to the bridge, so Nicholas dropped them off before returning to engineering. Given that transD jumps for a ship of this size required a bit of preparation, there was nothing left for them to do but to wait. And to argue.

"I'm supposed to go with you, Ratchet," Jason said, somewhat hotly, bristling a bit with his ears low. "I'm not gonna let you go to the station by yourselves."

"Look, I promise I won't try to escape," Ratchet replied, his patience starting to wear thin. "Clank and I can move quicker alone. We've gotta help Jaz."

"Ratchet can provide you a direct order if that would be of assistance," Clank offered.

"It's not that," Jason explained. "And the orders aren't important. I'm supposed to help you. I wanna help."

"I know," Ratchet said quietly. "But we've gotta do this ourselves. Clank 'n I are used t' this. We know the station and the asteroid field. It's just easier..."

Their discussion was interrupted as Ratchet's comm link chimed. "Minister Ratchet, Captain Waterman. We are about to open the portal. Stand by. I will inform you when we reach the Nundac Asteroid Belt."

"Thank you, Captain," Ratchet replied. The captain seemed less hostile to Ratchet recently, but the lombax was not sure if that was because he issued the override orders or if it was something else.

"Look, Jason," Ratchet said kindly. "I know you wanna help, but the best way you can do that is to stay here. Get in touch with Rich and let 'm know what's happening. See if he got in touch with Doctor 3X7." Jason's ears were drooped and his tail low. "It's nothing personal," Ratchet added.

There was a brief flicker in the illumination filaments above them. It only lasted for a few microseconds, but it was enough to silence both lombaxes. Ratchet and Jason realized that it was likely the portal being opened. Clank moved to activate the small holovid display in Nick's quarters, adjusting the controls to obtain a forward view. The Nundac Asteroid Belt and the Apogee Space Station floated in an unusual stillness amid the glowing stars. But it was obvious to all three of them that something was very wrong.

The navigational beacons that normally illuminated the exterior of the station had been deactivated. The pulsating Sigma 3 generator was inert and dark, completely dead. While the station was able to maintain its position among the asteroids by inertial thrusters running on emergency battery power, it was apparent that the station was lifeless and could not remain in this state indefinitely.

Clank turned to look at Ratchet. The lombax's ears drooped, his tail was low and his jaw was slightly open in shock. "Ratchet," he began.

"I know, Clank," Ratchet interrupted. "I know." Ratchet turned to Jason, who was looking at the screen, shaking his head in disbelief. Ratchet stood, walked over to Clank and put his hand on his friend's shoulder. Looking at Jason, he muttered, "End of discussion. Goodbye."

Jason turned to look at Ratchet and there was a flash of energy from a remote teleporter. They were gone.

* * *

Ratchet and Clank stood in the central teleporter hub, near the docking bay where Aphelion was resting. The comm link chimed on Ratchet's glove; he answered it automatically with his neural matrix. "Minister Ratchet, Captain Waterman. We have arrived at the Nundac Asteroid Belt." Nothing Ratchet did not know already. Waterman's booming voice continued. "Remote scanners show only two life forms, both organic. One is located on what is labeled as the 'beta' asteroid, most likely Ambassador Parallax. The other is significantly larger and is located in the central control complex of the station itself. Given its size and shape, I suspect that it is a leviathan. There are no robotic life forms, nor is there any power generation in the area."

"Thank you, Captain," Ratchet replied. "With your permission, Clank and I will investigate, make contact with Jaz and bring her on board."

"Permission granted. Good luck, Minister."

"Thank you," Ratchet replied, then disconnected the link. He immediately contacted Nick. "Nick? Ratchet."

"Hey." Even in these circumstances, Nicholas was not to be flustered easily.

"Clank 'n I are gonna get Jaz. What's the range on the teleporter?"

Nicholas chuckled. "Is there anything you want from Al's shop?"

Ratchet could not have heard that right. "Nick, Al's in Metropolis... on Kerwan... in Solana... Different galaxy..."

"I know," Nick calmly replied. "So?" A chill ran down Ratchet's spine. Nick _was_ joking... Right? Or was the teleporter _really_ that powerful? After a few heartbeats, Nick laughed. "Just kidding." Ratchet was somehow very relieved at that. "But the range is easily in the megacubits. You can get t' anywhere on the station or the asteroid belt from here."

Ratchet chuckled. "Nearly stopped my heart," Ratchet admitted.

Immediately, Nick responded, "Don' worry; sis'll fix it."

Ratchet began to laugh in earnest. "We'll be back soon."

Clank nudged Ratchet in the side. "Uh, Ratchet? You might want to let him know about Deputy Positron..."

"Good point. Nick? We kinda stranded Jason in your quarters. He doesn't have a matrix, so he can't blink. Is there any way out of the living area?"

Nicholas began laughing in return. "No. The deck's sealed. He would have to go to the central hub and use the teleporters from there. It'll take him a while." There was a pause. "Do you want it to take him even longer?"

Ratchet thought about it for a second, and then shook his head. "No. He's jus' tryin' t' help. But Clank and I know the station and the asteroids. We don't need him followin' us."

"I'll take care of it," Nick answered. "I've got plenty o' games and stuff fer him t' play with. He'll be fine where he is."

"Thanks," Ratchet said. "We'll be back soon."

Ratchet disconnected the link and looked at Clank. "Are you ready?" he asked.

Clank nodded, leapt up and landed on the connecting bolt of Ratchet's backpack straps; the sudden weight made the lombax wince slightly. Ratchet moved to the center of the room and the standard teleporter pad that was there. Ratchet climbed on, thought about the beta asteroid and activated the device.

* * *

Ambassador Jasmine Parallax was _not_ having a good day. Things started out okay when she tagged a stray male leviathan that had wandered into the herd around the station. But things went downhill quickly when the pirate ship parked outside the asteroid belt exploded.

Many of the life pods had reached the station long before she noticed that any had been launched. The pirates had somehow gotten on board and deactivated the teleport cannons. Stuck on the asteroid ring, Jaz could only watch as the Sigma 3 went offline and the station grew dark. Hoping that there was sufficient power, she sent a transD distress call, hoping that someone either on New Fastoon or on any of the other transD beacons would relay her plea for help.

From there, it had just been a matter of waiting. Using the camouflage gear from her leviathan hunt, she set up a tiny base camp on the beta asteroid, and after dealing with the few centipedes that decided to harass her, settled in for what she hoped would be a very short wait. As the hours dragged on, she eventually drifted off to sleep.

Jaz was awakened by the chiming of her comm link. Rolling over and rubbing her eyes, she was shocked to see a mammoth vessel holding a stationary position outside the protective asteroids. It was a lombax cruiser! A flagship, no less! Jasmine touched the comm crystal eagerly. "Parallax here."

"Jaz? It's Ratchet. Are you okay?"

"Ratchet?" she said, somewhat questioningly. She thought quickly. "Oh! Talwyn's mate. Right. We met during the negotiations for the embassy." Jaz looked out over the station, now painfully derelict. "Sorry about the mess..."

"Where are you?"

"I'm on beta."

Ratchet was puzzled. He was on beta too and it was a mighty small chunk of rock. He could not see any trace of her. "So 'm I, but I can't see you."

Jaz sat up knocking the camouflage gear away. Ratchet turned when he noticed the movement at the edge of his peripheral vision. He could not have been more than three cubits away from her.

"Oh," Ratchet muttered, deactivating his comm link. He quickly moved to where the ambassador was sitting. "Are you okay?" he asked, offering his hand to help her up.

"I'm fine," she said, taking Ratchet's hand and climbing to her feet. Ratchet winced, suddenly remembering the strength of her grip. "But we've got to get to the control deck. We have to get the station's generator back online."

"I know," Ratchet said, interrupting her and trying to calm her down. "We will. First we've gotta find out what happened."

Clank dropped from Ratchet's backpack straps and moved around the lombax to face Jaz. "Greetings, ambassador," he said politely.

Jaz grinned slightly on seeing him. "Clank! It's good to see you again." The ambassador had gotten to know Clank and Talwyn (Ratchet to a far lesser extent) during the negotiations, but she also happened to be a fan of the Secret Agent Clank series. She had actually worked some of his Clank-fu gestures into her workout routine.

"Captain Waterman?" Ratchet said out loud after activating his comm crystal.

"Yes, minister?" the booming voice replied.

"The ambassador is with us. Permission to teleport aboard?" Ratchet was trying to be as polite as he could.

"Permission granted," came the reply. "Please bring the ambassador to my office. We can contact New Fastoon from there."

"Thanks. We're on our way," Ratchet said and then deactivated the crystal. Looking into Jaz's lavender eyes, he nodded towards the flagship. "Wanna ride?" he joked with more than a trace of amusement in his voice.

Jaz was _not_ in the mood. Sure, it was great to be rescued, but she did not really want to be reminded of the fact that she needed rescuing in the first place. "Yeah," she said, her eyes narrowing a little dangerously and the tips of her ears quivering.

Sadly, Ratchet did not notice. Placing his left hand on her lower back, he suddenly found himself staring upward at the stars, flat on his tail with Jasmine's boot on his chest. She was exerting just enough pressure to keep him pinned. "What?" he groaned.

"Watch where you put your paws if you wanna keep usin' 'em," she said, glaring down at Ratchet.

"I'm bonded!" Ratchet shouted in his own defense.

"I believe that Ratchet's intention was to make physical contact for the teleport," Clank explained, trying to calm the situation.

"Yeah!" Ratchet protested. "Gimme a break!"

"Fine," Jasmine said, with a slight chill in her voice. Ratchet thought that she sounded a bit like Talwyn at that moment. She reached down and helped Ratchet up, pulling him very quickly (and rather jarringly) to his feet. "Ask first next time."

"Okay, okay," Ratchet said quickly, offering his left arm to Jaz. She delicately placed her gloved hand on his gloved forearm. Ratchet muttered something so very quietly that even Clank could not hear it as he placed his hand on his friend's metal shoulder. There was a teleporter flash.

For a fraction of an instant, they stood in the teleportation hub of The Wrench, but Ratchet already thought of Waterman's office. In a second flash, they were standing in front of the captain's desk. The warbot was waiting for them, his optic scanning up and down Jasmine's rather lithe figure.

Ratchet noticed. "Captain Waterman, may I introduce Ambassador Jasmine Parallax. Jaz, this is Captain Waterman."

"It is an honor to meet you captain," Jaz said. "I'm just sorry it had to be under these circumstances."

"I understand, ambassador," the warbot replied rather formally. "But these situations do occur. We will attempt to make the best of it. Please be seated."

Ratchet looked around and saw that there were a few portable chairs folded neatly and stowed in a rack near one of the navigational artifact display cases. Ratchet grabbed two and brought them back to the desk. In what he thought was merely a nice gesture, he unfolded one for Jaz and offered it to her. She glared at him, taking the one from his other hand, unfolding it herself and sitting down. Ratchet shook his head and sat as well. Clank stood next to Ratchet's left, between him and the ambassador, just in case.

"I hope you do not mind, ambassador," Waterman began, his deep voice echoing in the room, "but I took the liberty of having my crew launch a probe into the station. With your permission, I would like to see what we are up against."

Jaz nodded. Waterman turned the portable holovid display slightly, angling it so that the others could see.

The interior of the control room had changed a bit since the last time Ratchet had seen it. The first thing he noticed was that the wall he and Clank had broken through had been repaired. In fact, the stonework was so nicely done, if he didn't know that they had geo-lasered through it, he would never have known it was ever broken into. Talwyn's bed was gone, replaced by an ornate desk, a small couch, a pair of comfortable looking chairs and a table. Jaz presumably had moved into Talwyn's lombax themed guest bedroom while there.

But these were merely the minor details. The biggest and most obvious difference was the basilisk leviathan, coiled aggressively, nearly filling the enclosed space and spitting plasma bolts at every possible surface. It was a rather tight fit for the large creature and it seemed to be struggling to find a way out or make one of its own.

"Tiny!" Jasmine gasped. Ratchet turned towards her for a second, having grown accustomed to the nickname, when he suddenly realized that she had named the leviathan and was talking to it. "How did you get in there?"

"I suspect that someone or something may have teleported the creature into the room," Clank theorized out loud, placing his hand on his chin in a gesture he picked up from Ratchet. "Perhaps the leviathan was intended as either a sentry or a deterrent."

"I believe that our first action," Captain Waterman offered, "is to remove the creature from the control deck." He touched a control crystal on his chest. "Mr. Neutrino, please remove the leviathan from the station."

Waterman had enabled group broadcast on the comm link. There was a slight pause before Nick asked in an overly serious voice, "Where would you like it, sir?"

Ratchet noticed the captain's optic flicker again. He wondered if it meant something.

"Anywhere other than my quarters would be adequate, Mr. Neutrino," Waterman said.

"Captain?" Nicholas answered with a note of puzzlement and surprise in his voice. Ratchet could imagine Nick's face twisted with laughter, trying desperately to keep his voice level. No wonder he was such a good poker player - practice! "I don't know what you mean. However, the zeta asteroid is the furthest from the ship and the station. With your permission..."

"Granted."

There was a flare of energy on the monitor and the leviathan was gone. Captain Waterman briefly adjusted the display to view the exterior of the station. They could easily spot the leviathan, twisting wildly out beyond the asteroids, moving as quickly as it could away from the ship and the embassy. After a somewhat quiet whisper of "'bye, Tiny," from Jaz, the captain returned to the probe's video feed.

"Oh my," Clank muttered. Ratchet nodded in stunned agreement.

Without the leviathan in the way, the probe could now focus in on the details of the control deck and the display panels. Or rather, what was left of them. All of the consoles had been smashed with heavy metallic objects. But no weapons had crushed these panels; five pirates slumped inert on the control stations, or had fallen lifeless in front of them. The damaging blows had been caused by a brute force attack with the pirates chopping at the components and circuitry with their bare alloy arms. A sixth pirate actually stood rigid in front of the power distribution console, his exposed arm buried above his elbow in the twisted remains of the panel and the conductive wiring. Some residual current continued to arc across the arm, causing it to reflexively bend and straighten slightly.

"Oh, lads..." Captain Waterman said very quietly, his optic rather dim, "why? If you wanted to destroy the station, why didn't you use your blasters?"

That caught Ratchet's attention. Each of the corsairs had a pistol on their belts, unheeded and unfired from the look of it. There was something strangely familiar...

"Captain," Ratchet said urgently, "Can you patch me through to Rich Quantum on New Fastoon? It might be important."

Waterman activated a few controls and nodded his optic at Ratchet. "Rich?"

"Ratchet! Where are you? Jason's really pissed you know..."

"Nevermind that," Ratchet said very quickly. "Listen - that comm bot; the one you were gonna have Doctor 3X7 look over. What happened to him?"

"I told you; he went berserk and started smashing his control panel. Why?"

"Take a look at this," Ratchet said, redirecting the video feed over his comm link.

There was silence on the line, followed by a very quiet curse.

"Yeah," Ratchet agreed. "Keep an eye out for anything weird. Well, weirder than normal. I'm gonna try to find out what's goin' on."

"Let me know if you find anything," Rich said in a rather serious, business-like voice. "I'll do the same here. By the way, 3X7 has been looking at your friend's specs. It might be linked somehow."

Ratchet hadn't thought of that, but it was possible. "Yeah. Look, lemme go. I'll be in touch."

"Be careful," Rich said and then disconnected the line.

"One more call..." Ratchet muttered, tapping in a frequency he had not used for over two years.

"Arrr!" Captain Sprocket, third in command of the pirate fleet glared back over the vid link. "Who be ye?"

"Sprocket!" Ratchet barked in as intimidating a voice as he could manage. "Where's Pete? Why isn't he at his duty station?"

"Capt'n Ratchet!" Sprocket exclaimed, shock clearly visible on his features. Waterman's optic grew very bright and then started flickering again. "Pete's retired. I'm in charge now."

Pete? Retired? That was a surprise, but Ratchet could not let it show. He scowled at Sprocket on the vid link and growled. "_You're_ in charge?" Ratchet let his voice trail off, threatening.

"Beggin' yer pardon, Capt'n," Sprocket quickly corrected. "Yer in charge."

Ratchet nodded slowly, deliberately, the scowl still on his face. "Don't ferget it again, Sprocket!" The robot on the other end of the link was quaking slightly; there was a metallic rattling over the audio feed. Jaz looked at Ratchet, her eyes widening in amazement as she realized that _he_ was the Dread Captain they were so deeply loyal to and desperately afraid of. There must be a lot more to this short lombax than she originally thought. "Where's Pete now?"

"He ran off with some wench," Sprocket said, giving a dirty chuckle. "Never thought I'd see that 'appen."

Ratchet was rather inclined to agree with Sprocket on that. Rusty Pete was not known for either his charm, looks or charisma. Especially after hitting the grog tanker. But Ratchet had more important things to worry about.

"So, Sprocket," Ratchet said in a threateningly friendly voice, as if tormenting a cornered foe, "what made ya disobey me orders 'n attack the lombax station?"

Sprocket blinked, sitting up in surprise, eyes wide. "I dunno whatcha mean, Capt'n..."

"Lemme remind ya," Ratchet pressed. "Lombax station... Pirate ship... Explosion... Life pods..." Sprocket was shaking his head, terrified. He didn't know what Ratchet was talking about, but could see the anger in the lombax's eyes. "How 'bout this?" Ratchet accused, transmitting the probe's vid feed over the link again.

"Angstrom's ghost!" Sprocket gasped, horrified. "I swear, Capt'n, I dunno. I swear!"

If Sprocket was acting, Ratchet thought, he was doing a mighty good job of it. He decided to try a different approach. "I don' like this, Sprocket," he said. "Somethin's goin' on behind me back. I don' like seein' me lads get hurt like this. Especially fer nothin'." Ratchet stared into the vidlink, trying to be as imposing as possible. "'S anythin' strange been goin' on since I been gone?"

"No, Capt'n!" Sprocket was quick to say. "We been watchin' the goldfish, like ye told us."

Jasmine's eyes narrowed at that. Ratchet _was_ a minister... If it was _his_ idea... Her thoughts immediately drifted to the heavy hammer in her manifestor...

"Anything else?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah," Sprocket admitted. "The Drunken Sparrow took off. 'Bout a week ago. Her crew'd been actin' funny: they we're blastin' music, cussin' 'n drinkin' like normal, but ye could see their 'earts weren' inta it. Som'thin' was wrong. Then they pulled anchor 'n vanished. Di'n't even stay fer the yoga class."

Ratchet nodded. A pirate without yoga was like ... Ratchet paused; he could not even complete that thought. The pirates loved their yoga.

"Alright, Sprocket," Ratchet growled. "If any o' the lads start actin' funny, tell me. I'm gonna get t' the bottom o' this if I hafta tear this galaxy apart!" Sprocket's face lit up slightly at the thought of that. Ratchet glared back at him. "Keep the lads watchin' the goldfish. I know there's lombax technology there."

"Aye, Capt'n," Sprocket said, visibly relieved, thinking that the interview was over and moving his hand to disconnect.

"Oh, 'n Sprocket," Ratchet started, pausing with that same predatory voice.

"Yes, Capt'n?" Sprocket asked, the fear returning to his eyes and a slight tremor visible in his chassis.

"Don' ferget who's in charge here," Ratchet said in a very quiet and threatening voice. Sprocket began to quake again. "Don' make me come out there t' remind ya in person... You'll think Slag had it easy..."

"No, Capt'n!" Sprocket said frantically. "I won' ferget!"

Ratchet disconnected the link.

* * *


	10. Chapter 08

**Chapter 8: Repairs and Revelations**

As soon as Ratchet disconnected the link, he found five eyes / scanners staring at him. "What?" he muttered innocently.

Clank was the first to speak. "Ratchet, I did not know that you spoke 'pirate'..."

Ratchet shrugged, a small grin on his face.

Waterman's optic was fixed on him, scanning up and down his rather unimposing frame. It flickered a few times before the captain finally spoke. "My sincerest apologies, Minister Ratchet," he said. "I had thought you were merely an adventurer, and a groundling at that. It is quite obvious that I have significantly underestimated you." There was a creaking, staticy sound produced by his speaker; quite likely a sigh. "It must have been quite a show; you and Slag. He never did fight fair. I warned that scamp long ago that he'd come to a bad end if he didn't clean up his act."

"You knew Slag?" Ratchet asked, very surprised.

"When he was first put together," Waterman answered. "That rascal always loved looking for trouble. And treasure."

"How did you meet?" Jaz asked politely. "Have you encountered many pirates?"

Captain Waterman looked at her in silence for a few seconds, then stared in turn at both Ratchet then Clank. Returning his optic to Jaz, he finally answered, "Arrr. I wasn't always the model o' polite be'avior ya see standin' b'fore ye. Aye! I be 'ere long afore I took wing fer ye lombaxes. Me 'n me mates plundered many a moon in our day..." The captain noticed the lombaxes and Clank staring at him, the robot's jaw ajar in open shock. Waterman's optic flickered again and his voice suddenly grew very deep and husky. "That was a long time ago. I have been with the Lombax Defense Ministry for approximately three point two millennia now. I encountered Slag and a few members of his crew when they tried to board my ship. A few of them got away, including Slag, but I made certain they paid dearly for their mistake." He paused briefly, looking at the vid feed again. "That is why it pains me so much to see this."

"Captain," Clank said, "It might be best if we take care of the pirates and get the sigma three generator back on line. I do not believe we have much time."

Waterman nodded his optic. "You are right, of course." He touched his comm crystal, this time on a private link. "Mr. Neutrino, have you seen the probe's vid feed?" A pause. "Please report to my off..." There was a flash of energy and Nick stood a few cubits away facing them. Waterman quietly muttered, "Show off..."

Nicholas's green eyes were a bit on the dark side with a touch of grey. Obviously he had seen the feed and was clearly dismayed by it. His ears and tail were slightly drooped, but his eyes spoke volumes.

"Mr. Neutrino," Waterman said in his typical, formal voice, "I would like to introduce you to Ambassador Jasmine Parallax. Ambassador, this is my lead engineer, Mr. Nicholas Neutrino."

Jaz turned to Nick and they looked into each others' eyes. Ratchet was watching and saw Nick's reaction: his ears and tail suddenly perked, he drew in a sharp breath and his eyes shifted to sunny green in less than a microsecond. His jaw dropped slightly and he seemed at a loss for words for the first time since Ratchet met him. "Hey," he said casually, extending his hand to Jaz.

Ratchet wished he could have warned him in advance. Jaz took his hand and started shaking it. Ratchet watched as, with a grin spreading across her muzzle, she slowly and painfully clamped down on his hand, crushing it as she shook it. "Jasmine Parallax..."

Nicholas's eyes opened wide in shock and began to tear a little in pain. Then they narrowed and a small smirk spread across his muzzle as well. Jaz suddenly released his hand and pulled sharply away with a slight yelp. As she rubbed her sore hand, Nicholas said, "Nicholas Neutrino. Call me Nick."

As Ratchet watched, the anger on her face dissolved as she stared into his sunlight yellow eyes. Her somewhat nasty grin softened into a more relaxed smile. "Hi, Nick. Jaz."

Nicholas could not tear his gaze away from her lavender eyes. "Why don't we go over to the station. I'm sure we can get power back for you in a few hours."

"Hours?" Jaz asked. This seemed almost impossible to her, given the visible extent of the damage on the vid feed.

Nick nodded. "Trust me." He extended his right arm for Jaz to hold on to. She placed her hand on it, above the cuff of his glove, resting on his fur. Nicholas sighed, smiled slightly, but he did not even pull his eyes from hers as he asked Captain Waterman, "With your permission..."

"Granted," Waterman said, his optic flickering.

There was a flash of energy and the lombaxes were gone. Ratchet turned to the vid feed and could see them appear on the control deck. They began to carefully explore the panels, getting an estimate of the damage. They also seemed to be searching for something. Captain Waterman sighed again.

"Such a pity. He was so talented, too..."

"Wha' d' ya mean?" Ratchet asked.

Captain Waterman looked at Clank. He nodded. "Ratchet, did you notice Nicholas's reaction when he first saw Ambassador Parallax?"

Ratchet nodded grinning. Nick certainly seemed stunned, almost captivated by Jaz.

"Did you also notice Ambassador Parallax's reaction to Nick?"

Ratchet chuckled. "Apart from breaking off her handshake? I've gotta ask Nick how he did that." Clank gave him one of _those_ looks. Ratchet thought about it. Yes... "Yeah, I did."

Clank nodded. "And that was merely in the visible spectrum; the reaction was significantly more obvious in infrared." Clank had really only seen this phenomenon a very few times before: with Ratchet and Talwyn, with Rich and Nichole, and also (but to a less visible extent) with Reg and Melody.

Ratchet's eyes opened wider and his ears and tail perked. It was hard to believe, but... "You mean???" Clank nodded. Nichole's words from a month ago suddenly echoed back to him: 'One of these days, Nicholas is going to surprise us all and out of the black announce that he's bonded. It happens that way sometimes; you just meet the right person and you know.' Judging by their reactions, it was just a matter of time.

Waterman said, somewhat sadly, "Exactly. I have just lost the best engineer I have had in centuries."

They stood there for a few moments in silence, each thinking about Nicholas. Finally, Ratchet stirred. "We'd better get over there too," Ratchet said, glancing at Clank. The robot leapt into the air, landing on Ratchet's backpack straps, fastening the connecting bolt that held him securely to the lombax. Captain Waterman looked on somewhat puzzled, his optic flickering slightly. "We're a team," Ratchet muttered, a little shy. He had somehow gained the respect of the ancient warbot, and he hoped that this would not cause any trouble.

Waterman nodded slightly with his optic. "So I had heard," he said. "Your reputations preceded you both, of course. I did not believe them at first, thinking them overinflated puffery. However, after having met you, I certainly believe it now." The Captain fixed them both in his crimson gaze. "If there is anything that The Wrench can do for you, do not hesitate to call on me."

"Thank you, Captain," Ratchet replied in a formal and dignified voice.

"Indeed," Clank added. He paused for a second.

Waterman fixed his optic on Clank; it was obvious that the smaller robot had a question. "Go ahead," he prompted.

"I am merely curious how you knew Prime Minister Solstice," Clank said. "I know that it was only through his intercession that we were able to observe the additive trials."

The Captain broke off his gaze, looking around the room, up at the ceiling, anywhere except at Ratchet and Clank. "Reginald Solstice has a great deal of talent with electronics and lombax components, along with a reputation for being... discrete." Ratchet looked up at the huge warbot - he sounded almost embarrassed! "He was able to retrofit my, uh, logic interface probe to meet modern specifications." Again, an awkward pause. "As you probably understand, I was most grateful for his endeavor." The warbot's optic flickered again, then in a much more commanding voice declared, "I must return to the bridge."

Ratchet looked at him. "Permission to return to the station?"

"Permission granted," the captain replied and then lumbered through the door behind his desk.

Ratchet and Clank were left alone in the office. "Logic interface probe?" Ratchet muttered to Clank. He was very familiar with mechanics and robotic maintenance, but this was not a familiar component to him. "What's a logic interface probe? Do you have one?"

Clank smiled, recalling a similar conversation over two years ago. "I will tell you later," he said. "And, yes."

Ratchet had a sudden feeling of deja vu and thought that maybe he didn't really want to know. He concentrated on the control deck of the Apogee Station and teleported.

* * *

After an extremely brief visit to the central teleport hub, Ratchet and Clank materialized in the control room of the Apogee Space Station. Nicholas and Jasmine turned from the panel they were looking at and simultaneously waved a greeting. While there was still no power in any of the consoles, extremely loud music blared from audio replication units throughout the room. Ratchet recognized it as a Courtney Gears track, but he had never heard it before. Maybe it was from the album Al had sent him. It was kinda catchy; he found himself nodding and humming along.

Jaz turned back to the hyperD panel, hoping to reestablish communication with New Fastoon. Nicholas wandered over to Ratchet, his eyes an extremely bright shade of yellow, with barely the slightest trace of green there. Ratchet could not remember seeing that combination before. "Hey!" Ratchet shouted, trying to carry over the music.

Nicholas shook his head, his ears flapping slightly. As Ratchet watched, the comm crystal on Nick's glove illuminated. "Hey," Nick's voice sounded inside his head. Ratchet looked at his glove - his comm crystal was also glowing. Nick must have enabled his too.

"Hey," Ratchet said quietly.

The actual sound of his voice was lost in the music, but Nicholas heard him through the comm link. "How'd things go with Waterman?"

"Very well," Ratchet replied. "He's actually pretty cool."

Nicholas smiled and nodded. "There's a lot to him I haven't figured out yet, but once he respects ya, he _is_ cool."

Ratchet looked over to Jaz. Nodding in her direction, Ratchet asked, "How'd ya break her handshake?"

Nick's smile turned a bit sly. "I keep a modified toxic swarmer in my manifestor," he said. "Not the whole nest, just a loose swarmer. I let it sting 'er a few times. Got her attention!" Nicholas's smile widened.

Ratchet nodded. He did not know Jaz all that well, but he said, "She seems pretty nice."

"Yeah," Nick sighed, his eyes drifting across the room.

Ratchet grinned watching his reaction. It really was just a matter of time. "What's with the music?"

Nicholas looked around puzzled. "Not sure yet," he said over the link. "It was on when we got here. Haven't found the power source or the audio replicator yet. Not my thing... Not bad, though. It grows on ya."

"Courtney Gears," Ratchet said.

"I know," Nick answered. "Dev and Gamma Beta are big fans o' hers." He looked around again. "The same track keeps repeating, too..."

"I'm sure Clank's thrilled, seein' as how she tried t' kill us," Ratchet chuckled. "Right, Clank?"

There was no reaction from Clank, so Ratchet said louder. "Right, Clank?"

Still no response. Ratchet's smile vanished. "Clank?" he shouted.

Nick quickly moved behind Ratchet's back. He swore over the link.

"CLANK!" Ratchet shouted, worried, loud enough to be heard over the music. It caught Jasmine's attention and she looked over.

"Release the catch, Ratchet," Nick said. And while his voice was still calm, Ratchet could sense the urgency there.

Ratchet pulled the emergency release on the backpack straps. Clank and the straps slipped from his back, dead weight. Nick caught the robot and Ratchet spun around. Pulling the inert body from Nick's hands, Ratchet stared into Clank's optics; they were completely dark. "CLANK!" Ratchet shouted again. Nothing.

Ratchet carried his friend over to the ambassador's desk. With one sweeping move of his arm, he pushed all of the display tablets, still image replicators, documents and components to the floor. The lombax carefully laid his friend on the surface; Clank's servos were rigid, frozen into position. Ratchet grabbed the illuminator that he had just thrown on the floor and held it close to Clank's optics. There was no reaction, nor any sign of visible damage.

Nick said something to Ratchet over the comm link, but the lombax did not hear it. Ratchet deactivated his comm crystal. Very carefully, he placed the illuminator near Clank's side, manifested his portable tool kit, removed his multifunction switztool and began to open the radiator panel on Clank's chest. There was a tiny spark of static electricity as Ratchet grounded himself and the tool against the metal of Clank's chassis.

Ratchet's comm link chimed. The lombax turned toward Nick and growled angrily. "Not now!" he shouted and immediately went back to work.

The link chimed again. Ratchet turned to Nick, but saw the lombax was shaking his head, with his glove extended. His crystal was not glowing. Okay... Ratchet enabled his link and growled into it, "Ratchet here. This better be important!"

"Ratchet?" Clank's voice sounded over the comm link.

Ratchet was so shocked he dropped the switztool. "Clank?" he muttered, puzzled.

"Yes, Ratchet." Clank's voice was extremely calm, but the robot was still inert in front of him.

Ratchet gestured to Nick's glove. Petrov's son activated his link and tied in with Ratchet's. "Clank," Ratchet asked, "what's goin' on?"

"I am not completely certain," Clank responded. "From the moment we materialized on the station, I have been under attack by some form of malware. The override commands were so violent and so intense that I was forced to disable my input channels in order to isolate myself from these signals. Once isolated, I was able to regain control of my systems. However the experience was rather... disconcerting."

"You really had me worried!" Ratchet said, the emotion plainly evident in his voice, even over the comm link.

"I apologize if I caused you undue concern," Clank said. "However it was necessary to preserve my data integrity. I predicted that as soon as you discovered my situation, you would attempt repairs and I would notice an uncomfortable electrical discharge." There was a pause. "It appears that I was correct with my prediction."

"I know. Sorry about that," Ratchet said apologetically. "Are you okay? Can you come back? Wha' do I hafta do?"

"I will be able to reactive my systems unassisted," Clank explained. "But first, you must first remove the source of the override signal. Please describe your present environment."

"There's no power yet," Ratchet said over the link. "The only thing running is an audio replicator."

Clank's optics illuminated. As Ratchet watched they focused in on him. The robot's servos relaxed. Clank pulled himself into a sitting position, and then stood on the desk.

"Clank!" Ratchet shouted above the music.

Clank shook his head. Over the link, he heard Clank's voice. "Ratchet, I have only reactivated my optical inputs. From what you describe, the audio replicator is the likely source of the malware, since there is no other active power generation. I concluded that I could safely reactivate all but my audio sensors. This appears to be accurate." Clank looked around carefully. "What is the audio replicator playing?"

"It's some kind of loop," Ratchet said, looking around the room as well. "It's from Courtney Gears latest album." The lombax smiled. "It's really kinda catchy..."

Clank gave him one of _those_ looks. "Is this the same Courtney Gears that had performed the initial testing of the biobliterator for Doctor Nefarious?"

Ratchet blushed. He muttered to himself and nodded at Clank. Without another word, Ratchet looked a Nicholas. "Get down!" he shouted over the link to him.

Nicholas nodded, pulling Jasmine to the floor with him. Ratchet briefly asked himself why Nicholas was able to get away with that while he ended up flat on his back for even touching Jaz before. Shaking his head and smiling at the obvious reason, Ratchet manifested his combustors. Closing his eyes, the lombax listened carefully for the hidden audio sources planted within the room. Ratchet slowly spun, firing eight times. With each shot, the wildly pulsating music in the room diminished. Finally, with the eight shot, the room was once again quiet.

Ratchet opened his eyes and looked around. The audio generators had been hidden very carefully; some in the controls, others in the fixtures and furnishings. But the room was now still. "You can get up now," he called out to Nick and Jasmine. Jaz had her arm protectively over Nicholas's back as they lay on the floor. Slightly embarrassed, both of the lombaxes climbed to their feet, asking each other if they were alright.

Ratchet looked at Clank. Staring into his optics, Ratchet nodded deeply, once. Clank blinked his optics and began looking around the room. "Thank you, Ratchet," he said. "The override signal has been eliminated."

"Clank," Jasmine asked, "can you locate the audio replicator?"

Clank nodded, looking around the control room with his antenna probe pulsing. "It is located inside the airlock. The power cell is being shielded by the force field generator battery."

Ratchet moved to the airlock. After checking the indicators to make certain it was safe, he opened the inner door and began searching. A small device, about the size of his manifestor crystal, was wedged behind the force field generator circuit panel and the emergency power cells. Ratchet removed it, and after a quick examination, he deactivated the device and removed the audio module. It was not a purchased or manufactured media module; instead it appeared to have been home recorded, using a bootlegged copy of the audio stream. Ratchet shook his head... Pirates... The lombax looked at the label; it was plainly marked as Courtney Gears' latest album, the one that Al had downloaded to him.

Ratchet's eyes opened wide. He quickly returned to the others, closing the airlock door behind him. "It's the same album," he said. Ratchet looked at Nicholas and handed him the audio module. "You said Devon and Gamma Beta were big Courtney Gears fans. What album were they listening to?"

Nicholas immediately activated his comm link. "Dev? Nick." "Yeah, I'm prob'bly gonna need some help with the station, but I've got a question fer ya. What album were you and Gamma Beta listening to last night?" "Yeah, I'm serious." "Mmmhmm." "Where'd ya get it?" "Riiiight..." Nick's eyes turned a very dark green. "Dev - stop! Emergency quarantine protocol omega zed kappa." "No, I'm serious." "Acknowledged."

Nick's crystal went dark, then reactivated. Ratchet looked at his own glowing glove - he had been linked in. "Captain Waterman?"

"Yes, Mr. Neutrino?"

"Captain, I have Ratchet with me. Emergency quarantine protocol omega zed kappa."

There was a sudden silence on the link that lasted for nearly five seconds. A high pitched whine filled the link briefly, making Ratchet and Nicholas instinctively cover their ears, even though the link was really non-audible. After the whine cleared, Captain Waterman's voice returned. There was no trace of concern there; it was as if this was routine.

"Protocol initiated. So, Mr. Neutrino, Minister Ratchet, would you care to explain what is happening and why I just put The Wrench under emergency data lockdown?"

"Captain," Ratchet said, "when we got here, Clank was attacked by a virus; an override signal. He had to shut down his inputs completely to block it out."

"Continue..." Waterman prodded.

"There was music playing on the station when we got here," Ratchet explained. "Courtney Gears' new album. It was the only thing still working. Clank established a comm link with me, explained what was goin' on. We figured out that the override signal was in the audio 'n shot out the generators."

"Captain," Nicholas said, "Devon and Gamma Beta were listening to this same album last night, before Gamma shut down. They bought it from a friend of theirs on New Fastoon, a comm bot working in the hyperD monitoring station."

Waterman swore rather colorfully for a few heartbeats. Ratchet was sort of impressed in a strange way; he hadn't heard such extreme language except from Slag and maybe Mel on occasion.

"Captain," Nick broke in when the cursing faded away, "the comm bot bought a bunch of copies and imported them to New Fastoon. If there's a severe virus embedded in the audio stream..."

Waterman interrupted, "I am well aware of the significance, Mr. Neutrino." There was a pause. "Minister Ratchet, do you have any immediate instructions?"

"Yeah," Ratchet said. "Can you patch in Rich Quantum on New Fastoon?"

There was a click on the line. "Rich," the Regional Minister replied.

"Rich? Ratchet."

Rich was quick to greet him, "Ratchet, any news? How are things going?"

Ratchet cut him off. "Very badly. That comm bot that smashed his control panel. Is he a Courtney Gears fan?"

Rich was puzzled by the question and his voice showed it. "Yeah. From what I heard, when he saw the album Al sent you, he went right to the hyperband and ordered a few copies..."

"Rich, listen very carefully; this is important. There's a virus embedded in the music. It doesn't hurt organics, but makes robots go crazy. That's probably what happened t' yer comm bot, t' Gamma Beta on The Wrench, to the pirates that attacked the Apogee Station and to Clank."

"Clank?!?" Rich's voice was filled with alarm. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Ratchet said, looking over at Clank somewhat relieved. "He immediately shut down his inputs 'n fought it off. That's how we figured out what was happening. Rich - whatever this virus is, it's nasty. It's killed at least six pirates so far. If there are copies of this album on New Fastoon..."

"I'm on it," Rich quickly said into the link. "We'll purge the primary data store and erase any copies we can find. I'll tell 3X7, let 'm know what he's up against. I'll get back to you in a little while." Rich disconnected.

"Captain," Ratchet continued, "could you please open a link on frequency one one seven two four six point zero two zero?"

Waterman must have recognized, or at least been somewhat familiar with the frequency, because he responded, "Aye!"

It took a moment, but the link was connected. Ratchet could hear a tranquil combination of pan flute and zither music in the background. There was a sound of water dribbling over stones and a soft chanting of "aaaarrrr..." in the background. Suddenly Sprocket's unusually mellow voice answered. "Aye?"

"Sprocket!" Ratchet shouted over the link.

"Capt'n Ratchet!" Sprocket hastily replied. There was a slight screeching noise as the background audio recording suddenly was cut off. "Beggin' yer pard'n, Capt'n. Twas a yoga break."

Ratchet shook his head and wondered for a moment if yoga was popular back in Waterman's day. The thought of the barrel shaped captain meditating was more than he could bear. "Sprocket, I found out what happen'd t' our lads."

There was a grating noise and the sound of an audio module being snapped in half. So much for the relaxation music. "Jus' tell us who, Capt'n. We'll make 'em pay fer this!"

"NO!" Ratchet shouted at Sprocket. "Payback's _mine_!"

Sprocket sighed. "Aye..."

"Listen, Sprocket," Ratchet explained very carefully to the pirate, "there's a virus. The lad's 'd been listenin' to a Courtney Gears album. Ya know 'er?"

"Aye, Capt'n," Sprocket said. "Pete brung 'er aboard b'fore 'e ran off with her."

What? Ratchet's mind spun. No, he couldn't have heard that right. Courtney Gears and Rusty Pete? It was just too impossible to even contemplate.

"Sprocket, 'er latest album. The lads 'ad a bootleg of it. There's a virus in the music, it made 'em do this... I want ya t' delete 'em all; all copies on all the ships. Got it?"

"Capt'n, ya can't be serious," Sprocket said. There was a slight rattling on the line, as though Sprocket was shaking again. "There 'asn't been a case o' sound corruption in a thousand years."

"Sprocket..." Ratchet threatened.

"B'sides, she's got top requests on pirate radio..."

Captain Waterman's voice, in full pirate mode, broke in on the line. "Yull do as yer told!" he shouted into the link. "The Capt'n gave an order, 'n yull be scrap if ya don' carry it out!"

"I know that voice," Sprocket said. "H2OMN?"

"Ya got a probl'm wi' that?" Waterman barked.

"You two... You two _know each other_?" The rattling over the line grew significantly more intense. If Sprocket was terrified before, the pirate must have been beyond all reason now.

"Yes," Ratchet replied, in that dangerously threatening, quiet voice he used earlier. "He's told me all about ya." Ratchet paused, and the shaking intensified. "All of 'em, Sprocket. I don' want any more o' me lads gettin' 'urt by this virus. Got it?"

"Yes, Captain!"

After a moment, Waterman barked, "NOW!" over the link.

"Yessir! Capt'n! Captains!" Sprocket dropped the link in a panic.

* * *

Nicholas looked at Ratchet, whistling slightly into the still open link between himself, Captain Waterman and his brother.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Neutrino?" Captain Waterman asked in his somewhat formal tone.

"Not at all, Captain," Nick was quick to reply. He chuckled slightly. "I always knew you had it in you, sir." Waterman did not respond to that comment.

"Ratchet," Clank said, "I have an incoming call from Regional Minister Quantum."

"Can you patch it into this link?" Ratchet said. Clank nodded. Jasmine also activated her comm crystal and listened in.

"Ratchet? Rich."

"Hey, Rich," Ratchet began. "I have you patched in with everyone here. What's the story?"

"It looks like we caught it in time," Rich said, rather relieved from the sound of it. "Only four copies were sold in Leonid so far - yours, UR4GD's, Devon Ionosphere and Gamma Beta 39. We've erased your copy and UR4GD's."

"We'll take care of Devon's and Gamma Beta's here. They're both on The Wrench," Ratchet said.

"Good. 3X7 is reverse engineering the virus. You were right; it's a nasty one. He's trying to develop a patch now. The only other victims in Leonid so far were a few cleaning drones that worked in UR4GD's apartment. They've been taken care of."

"Cool," Ratchet replied.

"Uh, Ratchet," Rich said.

The tone in his voice sent a cold feeling down the lombax's spine. "Yeah?" he drawled very slowly.

"3X7 wanted me to warn you: this one's personal. The virus is bad enough, but it's got a special payload. It's designed to take over the host, but it also forces the victim to attack anything remotely lombax..." Rich paused for a heartbeat. "Especially, you."

"Me?" Ratchet was dismayed. His ears perked in surprise and his tail swished from side to side slightly.

"This would not be the first time that this has occurred," Clank said.

"You should be used t' this by now," Nicholas wryly added.

"The doctor found some specific personal information embedded within the virus: your description, your genetic profile, your name, your previous residences and home planets...," Rich sadly said. "You're definitely the target."

"Great," Ratchet mumbled.

* * *


	11. Chapter 09

**Chapter 9: Former Addresses**

"There's Veldin," Ratchet began listing his previous addresses, "Endako..."

"That is not correct, Ratchet," Clank interrupted. "Technically, the apartment on Endako was in Abercrombie Fizzwidget's name."

"He's right, Ratchet," Rich agreed. "Veldin, Kerwan and the Apogee Space Station are the only ones in the virus. New Fastoon was not mentioned either."

"I wonder why," Ratchet mused. "And I wonder how they found out about the station."

Jasmine shook her head. "The station's common knowledge. Everyone knows that it's the lombax embassy in this dimension, and that you and Talwyn rent it to the LCC. And it's not like we broadcast information about New Fastoon."

"Ratchet," Rich began, and his voice was rather concerned, "I'm gonna send some deputies out there via Dimensionator. They'll stay with you until..."

"No!" Ratchet quickly interrupted. "I won't be able to get anything done with a squad on my tail."

"This isn't optional, Ratchet."

"Please, Rich. I've got Jason here. Isn't that enough?"

Rich thought about it for a few moments, and then suspiciously replied over the link. "Okay, Ratchet. But you owe me one. Keep Jason with you. If this virus is as bad as 3X7 thinks, every infected drone and bot out there will be looking to obliterate you."

"I'll be careful," Ratchet promised. "Besides, you'll have enough to do, distributing the patch. Jason and I'll keep in touch." Ratchet disconnected the link, but immediately reestablished a new one with Captain Waterman, patching in the others one by one.

"Lemme guess," Nicholas said, "yer gonna ditch Jason the first chance ya get."

"Was I that obvious?" Ratchet asked, blushing slightly in infrared.

There was a chorus of "YES!" from Clank, Nick, Jaz and Captain Waterman.

"Clank, is there any news from Veldin or Metropolis?" Ratchet asked.

The antenna on Clank's head pulsed. "Unfortunately yes, Ratchet. There have been pirate sightings on Veldin. A small group of them appears to be destroying a cluster of buildings around the Kyzil Plateau. There have been no reports of unusual activity in Metropolis at this time."

"Alright," he replied. Looking around the control deck, he saw that Jasmine and Nicholas were staring at him, waiting. They were standing very close together... "Captain Waterman?"

"Yes, Minister?"

"Please, call me Ratchet. I'd like your opinion on this. What if I asked you and The Wrench to remain here, guarding the station. Nicholas will need some time to get the sigma three generator and defense systems online." Nick nodded. "With the station listed in the virus, it'll be a target. Stay here at least until the station's repaired. Clank and I'll take Aphelion and go t' Veldin. We're gonna try t' snap the pirates out of it if we can. If not... well... We'll keep ya informed every step of the way. What d' ya think o' that?"

Captain Waterman gave a tiny burst of static over the link. "If you are asking for my input, I would say that your plan appears to be sound, in most regards. The embassy will require both defense and repair services for the duration of this crisis. I see only two flaws in your approach. The first is Deputy Jason Positron. He is likely to follow you at the first opportunity. The second is that you are putting yourself into a significant amount of jeopardy by doing this."

"It's nothin' we haven't done before," Ratchet replied. "As fer Jason... Just keep 'm busy. He can work with Rich on the patch. Don' get me wrong - he's good 'n all, but Clank 'n I'll be faster alone."

"Mmmm..." Waterman muttered. "Clank, do you agree to this?"

"Yes, Captain," Clank replied. "Ratchet and I have done this on many previous occasions. He is correct in his analysis of the situation."

"Very well," Waterman said. "Minister Ratchet, I agree with your proposed plan and await your orders. I would also like to thank you for providing me the opportunity for input as well."

Ratchet nodded. "You've got lots of experience and I appreciate your advice, Captain..." Ratchet's voice became a bit formal, for him. "Captain, you and The Wrench are to stay with the Apogee Station. Provide any technical help you can, and protect it from attack until the patch is released. Keep Jason with you to work with Rich on the patch. With your permission, Clank and I'll take Aphelion and help out on Veldin. We'll be in touch."

"Yes, Minister," Waterman replied very crisply. "Good luck." He disconnected the link.

Ratchet glanced back to Jaz and Nick. "Will you be okay here?"

"We'll be fine," Jasmine answered.

"Don' worry, Ratchet," Nicholas added with a relaxed smile, "I'll get the station fixed in no time."

"That's just it," Ratchet said, shaking his head slightly. "Take all the time ya need. I don't want The Wrench leavin' the station until its defense systems are online." He looked at Jaz. "Plus, I'm sure the ambassador has some projects she wanted done; maybe some upgrades t' the ecodomes or the living quarters..."

Jasmine looked away briefly, flushing brightly in infrared. Nick's eyes took on the yellowish look of bright sunlight as he looked at her face. Jaz nodded. "There were a few projects I wanted to do... Adding a few spare bedrooms and storage closets for visiting dignitaries; upgrading the main terrarium's hydrofiltration system; that kind of thing."

"Not a problem," Nick said, smiling. Then he looked back at Ratchet. "How can I help?"

"Just stay here and take care of the station," Ratchet answered.

Nicholas nodded. "Thanks. Tell dad I'm okay 'n that I'll stop by when The Wrench gets back. We've gotta give the results to the CALR 'n they're gonna wanna check 'er over fer themselves."

Ratchet nodded. Clank was still attached to the connecting bolt, but the backpack harness was hanging behind him. Ratchet walked over to the desk Clank was standing on and looked into his optics. After Clank nodded, Ratchet and Clank turned back to back. Ratchet carefully bent down, pulled the harness onto his back and across his chest. The lombax refastened it securely and straightened up, adjusting the straps slightly so they were back in their original and comfortable positions. Ratchet looked at Nicholas and Jasmine, said "Later..." and thought of the central teleportation hub and Aphelion.

* * *

Ratchet piloted Aphelion carefully away from The Wrench, the Apogee Station and the Nundac Asteroid Belt. Once he reached clear space, he turned to Clank, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, saying "Here we go..." The lombax engaged the wormhole and increased the additive ratio; the fighter shot forward, speeding down the tunnel of hyperspace.

"Ratchet," Aphelion began. Her cultured voice sounded significantly pleased with herself, as it had from the moment the lombax had awakened her before departing. "I estimate that we will reach the perimeter of the Solana galaxy in approximately three hours."

"Cool," Ratchet answered. Tilting his head a little, puzzled, Ratchet finally had to ask. "Okay, Aphelion. Why so smug?"

"I do not know what you mean, Ratchet," she said innocently. She paused for a moment. "Although, I must admit that I am happy we are leaving Deputy Positron and his dreadful Perigee behind. While I am not at all pleased with the added jeopardy this puts you into, it is very welcome not to have to listen to her bragging and prattle for the entire journey."

Clank chuckled slightly and Ratchet smiled. "I'm glad too, Aphelion," the lombax said softly, reminiscing. "This reminds me o' the ol' days... before New Fastoon and the LCC..." Ratchet grew silent, the smile still on his muzzle and his eyes fixed on the swirling colors of the wormhole. "It was so different then..." he muttered.

"Ratchet," Clank said, looking up at the lombax, "Why did you recommend that Nicholas delay completing the repairs to the Apogee Station, and that Ambassador Parallax itemize the enhancements she wished to have completed?"

Ratchet chuckled and his smile changed into a slight leer. "T' give 'em a bit o' time on the station together. Alone."

"Oh... I understand," Clank said.

Aphelion sounded shocked. "Matchmaking? _You?_"

Ratchet shook his head, still with that leering grin on his muzzle. "From what I saw, they don't need my help!"

"Ratchet's assessment is quite accurate," Clank added. "Nicholas and the ambassador appear to have the situation well under control."

There was a brief, amused chortle from Aphelion's speakers before the audio generators were cut off. They flew on in silence for a while, each occupied with his or her own thoughts.

After a few minutes, Clank broke the stillness, "Ratchet, I recommend that you try to sleep if possible. It is likely that we will encounter difficulties on reaching Veldin, and your rest was disrupted previously."

Ratchet did feel a little tired, but there was still a lot that he had to do. "Thanks, Clank. I'm okay. Aphelion, open a channel to Kerwan and see if you can get the mayor's office. And whatever you do, don't listen to any music channels."

Ratchet was not able to get Sasha directly, but did get her message system. The lombax carefully described the situation, including details of the virus and that they were working on a patch. He also asked the cazar to try to block any future broadcasts or sales of the album. Ratchet personally thought that she would not have much luck with the media monoliths, but maybe they would listen to reason, especially if their own bots were becoming infected.

Ratchet also tried to contact Big Al, but got his message system as well. He again left detailed instructions, all he knew about the virus and what was happening. Clank downloaded a complete technical breakdown of how he had fought off the override codes to Al, along with what to look for and a promise to provide him with the patch as soon as ACLR had it ready for distribution.

The lombax twisted in his seat as best as his harness would allow and grabbed the open box of Stylus Shavings he kept in the rear compartment. It was a little stale because it had been opened for a while, but it still tasted good to the lombax. Ratchet snacked on the cereal for a while, thinking to himself that he had to remember to stash better rations in his manifestor for the next time he travelled, when his gloved fingers touched something strange in the box. Digging carefully, Ratchet removed another tracker, sealed in a protective shell, similar to the one he found on his neobond trip to Saphria with Talwyn. Chuckling to himself, he showed it to Clank. "I didn't think Rich would repeat himself," the lombax said.

"That is probably why he did so," Clank answered. "Perhaps he felt that you would not look there a second time."

Ratchet shook his head. "Or maybe Rich thought I'd stop looking if I found one. Aphelion, do a full scan. Are there any more trackers on board?"

"Not that I can detect, Ratchet," she replied after a few moments. "However, there are some areas of my chassis that are shielded; I am not able to scan within these blind spots."

"Do you believe that Rich would plant multiple tracking devices on Aphelion?" Clank asked.

"I'm sure of it," Ratchet replied. "But there's nothin' we can do about it now. 'N he knows where we're goin' anyway."

* * *

Time passed quickly for Aphelion and her passengers. Clank continued to monitor the news bands for information about the virus while Ratchet deliberately downgraded his omega VX lightning ravager to a significantly more benign power level. He really did not want to kill the pirates if he could avoid it; after all, they were technically his crew. But he needed to incapacitate them or at least break the virus's hold over them, and the lombax hoped that a nice jolt from the ravager would do the job.

Aphelion settled gently on what was left of the small landing pad outside Ratchet's old garage. The building itself had been leveled by the Galactic Rangers and the Tyhrranoids years ago, but the broken rubble still formed a casual outline of the place Ratchet spent his lonely pre-adolescent years, dreaming of escaping to the stars. The lombax carefully climbed out of the ship, his mind full of memories. Clank leapt from Aphelion, landing and latching on to the backpack straps and the connecting bolt as usual. Ratchet winced, not just from the sudden weight, but also from the scene around him.

His adopted parents' house, the one he had sealed in his grief after they moved on, had been intact the last time he was here. Now it was in ruins, flattened to the ground from what appeared to be a highly targeted pounding from both above and from the planet's surface. The still smoldering remains gave off a thin choking chemical vapor that stung Ratchet's eyes and seared his lungs. The lombax looked at the debris in disgusted sadness: nothing appeared to be salvageable.

Turning in a slow circle and surveying the scene, Ratchet just shook his head slowly, his ears and tail drooped, trying to process the stark reality around him. His only consolation was that the thorntree was still alive, even though its thorns looked very pale and anemic, almost as brown as the wooden vines themselves. Very slowly, Ratchet reached out with his gloved hand and caressed the main trunk of the thorntree: the only aspect of his days as a kit that still remained.

Down the path, near the crater where Clank originally crash landed into the lombax's life, came the sound of rather bad singing - a mix of pirate shanties and Courtney Gears hits. Ratchet shook his head, blocking out the memories to focus on the present. "Clank," he said, a trace of emotion still in his voice, "ya might wanna turn off yer audio sensors again. If this is anything like the station, they'll be blastin' the virus at full volume."

"I agree, Ratchet," Clank responded. "I will maintain an open comm link with you. In the event that I require your attention, I will signal you as I do in the council chamber."

"Okay," Ratchet said, knowing that Clank would zap him in the back with a small electric shock if he needed anything. The lombax activated his comm link. "Ready?" he asked out loud.

"I am ready," Clank responded, his voice echoing in Ratchet's mind.

"Let's go," the lombax said grimly, moving away from the wreck of his former home.

Ratchet moved slowly down the path, cautiously looking ahead and watching for resistance. He did not encounter anything until he came to the skeletal ruins of Clank's old ship, where he saw five pirates pounding with their bare fists on one of the small storage structures along the path. Even though he had been expecting it, the brutality and mindless determination of the pirates still stunned Ratchet. They had weapons at their sides, but did not give any indication that they intended to use them; they merely wanted to batter the building flat.

Ratchet took out his lightning ravager. "This be yer only warning," he shouted at the pirates, a deep growl in his throat. Even with the scowl on his face, Ratchet had to admit that he felt a little better - for all of the pirates' yoga and relaxation techniques, maybe Petrov had the right idea after all...

At the sound of his voice, the pirates turned to face him. Their eyes were lifeless and flat. The song they were singing suddenly altered, becoming reminiscent of the Courtney Gears track that they found looping in the Apogee Station. It was a far from perfect rendition, but it was close enough that Ratchet began to worry. "Are you okay, Clank?" he asked.

"I am fine, Ratchet," Clank replied. "My audio inputs are disabled."

"Good," Ratchet answered. "Their singin's pretty bad."

The pirates lurched toward him, ignoring their weapons in favor of their fists. When they got within range, Ratchet let loose with the lightning ravager. It struck the closest of the pirates, the electrical charge driving him to his knees. There was no other reaction though and the pirate continued to stare at him with empty eyes.

"Damn," Ratchet muttered. "I thought it would work."

Ratchet continued to flail with the downgraded ravager. Eventually, all five of the pirates were on the ground, convulsing with current. There was still no sign of any intelligence or recognition in their eyes. When they were all at least partially disabled, Ratchet moved carefully towards the nearest of the pirates. Looking very closely, the lombax noticed a white nanowire running between a pocket on the pirate's shirt and a pair of tiny audio generators wedged inside the robot's audio sensors. Ratchet manifested his switztool and cut the conductive strand.

There was no immediate result; the pirate continued to stare blankly ahead, not noticing anything around him. Frustrated, Ratchet took out his lightning ravager and shocked the robot yet again. This time he finally got a reaction. The pirate blinked and a tiny light of intelligence began to grow in his eyes. "'ere," he said, "whu'd ya go 'n do that fer?"

Ratchet grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled his face close to his own muzzle. Growling angrily at the damaged pirate, he shouted as loud as he could, "What 'n the name o' Angstrom's Ghost d' ya think yer doin'?" Ratchet personally had no idea who Angstrom was or what his ghost was doing these days, but if Sprocket used the phrase, it had to mean something good.

The pirate's eyes ever so slowly focused on the lombax. "Capt'n Ratchet!" the pirate groaned. He began to tremble. "Mercy!"

"What's yer name?" Ratchet barked at the terrified pirate.

"Roberts."

"What's the last thing ya remember, Roberts?"

"I was at a party wi' me mates. We was singin' t' a song Pete's wench brung us."

Ratchet's eyes narrowed. Pete and Courtney Gears? Could it really be? "Go on..."

"Thassit! Then I was 'ere. 'onest, Capt'n! I swear!"

Ratchet hauled the robot to his feet. Roberts could barely stand. "Look at yer mates now!"

Roberts saw the inert bodies of the other pirates and shook even more violently. "Whu'd ya do to 'em, Capt'n?"

"'Tweren't me," Ratchet explained. "Pete's wench put a virus in 'er music." The lombax moved forward. As he expected, all of them had audio generators plugged into their sensors. He snipped each of the wires. "Stand back," he warned Roberts as he took out his lightning ravager once more. Ratchet struck each one in turn, bringing loud groans and curses from the robots on the ground in front of him.

When the four pirates were all sufficiently coherent to understand him, Ratchet told them about the virus in the music. The lombax felt a series of three tiny shocks on his back. "Roberts!" he barked without turning around; the first pirate freed had tried to slip away unnoticed. "Get back 'ere!" The pirate slunk back and joined the other four, sitting on the ground rather nervously. "You lot 'r in deep! Where's yer ship? How many o' ya are there?" Sadly, none of the pirates knew anything more. "How many o' ya were at that party?"

"Just us, Capt'n" Roberts answered.

Clank's voice sounded over the open comm link. He did not speak verbally, or if he did the pirates did not give any indication that they heard him. "Ratchet, I have re-enabled my audio inputs. What do you propose to do with them?"

"I dunno, Clank," Ratchet said, muttering as low as he could under his breath so the pirates would not hear him.

"You do not need to speak aloud, Ratchet," Clank explained. "Communication link crystals take their input directly from the speech center of the brain. Or, in my case, from my audio output pre-processor."

"Cool!" Ratchet thought, forming the words, but not speaking them. "I always wondered about that."

The lombax growled menacingly. "I got no time fer this," Ratchet muttered, deliberately loud enough for the pirates to hear. He glared at the robots huddled quaking before him. "Gimme yer weapons!" The robots hastily unfastened their blasters and cutlasses, tossing them with a rather loud clatter into a small pile in front of the lombax's boots. Ratchet carefully put them into his manifestor. "On yer feet!" The robots slowly stood up. Most of them were still a little unsteady. "Now, move!"

Ratchet marched the small band of pirates back up the path to his old garage. Once there, he ordered the pirates to sit down and wait. To add a little extra emphasis to his command, he had Aphelion adjust her weapon array so that the pirates were staring down the barrels of her ion cannons.

While Ratchet was getting the pirates settled, Clank gave him a quick shock on the back. "Uh, Ratchet," he said in a slightly warning tone. Not wanting to turn his back on the pirates, even though they were unarmed, Ratchet spoke into the link, "What is it, Clank?"

"A dimensional portal has opened behind you," Clank answered. "Based on the size and shape, it appears to have been created by Talwyn's door glove."

Talwyn? Ratchet shouted at the pirates, "Move 'n my ship atomizes ya. Got it?" Most of the pirates nodded. Roberts was sitting very still, practicing a yoga relaxation exercise, chanting "aaaarrrr..." quietly to himself.

"Ratchet!" Aphelion's voice came through Ratchet's open link. "You do not really want me to gun down unarmed pirates, do you?"

Ratchet shook his head slightly. "It's tempting," he thought over the link. "No, Aphelion. I just want 'em t' stay put. Just look threatening."

Aphelion took his instructions quite literally. She charged up her ion cannons, causing the barrels to glow slightly and vent plasma. Ratchet knew she wouldn't actually do it, but even he had to admit that she looked rather fierce. The pirates took one look at the glowing weapons array: three of them joined Roberts in his relaxation exercises, the last one's optics dimmed and he fainted, tumbling to the ground unconscious.

Satisfied, Ratchet turned to face the dimensional portal. Looking through the shimmering plane of energy hovering in the air in front of him, he could see Talwyn standing Rich's region nine office. Talwyn stepped through the doorframe and the portal closed behind her.

"Ratchet!" she said, moving towards him, embracing him in a tight hug and kissing him on the muzzle.

Behind him, the lombax heard one of the pirates (Roberts, he thought) mutter, "The Captain's Wench..." to his companions.

Unfortunately for him, Talwyn heard him too. Without even a second thought, her blaster manifested in her hand, she spun around Ratchet and fired a single shot directly into the right shoulder of the speaker. There was a hissing of electricity arcing and the robot's right arm fell limply to his side, useless. Talwyn glared at the pirates. "That was your only warning," she said menacingly. The pirates immediately returned to their relaxation chants, somewhat more frantically than before.

Ratchet used his matrix to activate her comm link, joining it with his and Clank's. "Talwyn!" the lombax thought over the link. "What 'r you doin' here?"

Talwyn smiled as she realized how the link was working. Nodding, she 'said', "Rich knew you'd leave Jason behind the first chance you had. He knows you don't want a squad of deputies, but he also thought you probably needed help anyway. He called me and let me know what was going on. I came through as soon as I could, locking onto you with the door glove."

"How's Melody?"

"She's fine. So is Crystal. Mel's back to normal. From what Nichole told me, it gets easier with each kit; it didn't even last a full day. When I left, she was apologizing to Reg for all of the horrible things she said about him." Talwyn looked at Ratchet carefully. "Reg told her you promised to treat them to a trip to Saphria."

"Yeah," Ratchet replied. "I thought it'd be nice."

"Don't forget, we're supposed to go as soon as we get back. For our anniversary."

"I didn't forget," Ratchet said into the link very quickly. "We're already booked. Clank made all the arrangements. As soon as this is over, we've got an entire week there."

"Good," she said. Then she glanced over at the pirates. "What's with them?"

"They were victims of the virus," Clank explained over the link.

"Yeah," Ratchet said sadly. "But I dunno what t' do with 'em. I can't just leave 'em here..."

"Doctor 3X7 was looking for victims to test his patch on. Maybe we can send them to Rich?"

"Worth a shot," Ratchet said. "Clank, can you add Rich in with your transD?"

Clank was still attached to the backpack straps, but nodded anyway. "Rich Quantum."

"Rich, Ratchet."

"Hey. I guess Talwyn found you okay."

"Yes, Rich," she said over the link. "I told you I could track him down whenever I felt like it."

"Huh?" Ratchet grunted over the link. For some reason, the thought of them having a conversation about Talwyn 'tracking him down' sent a cold spot down his spine. Especially because he knew that she was very capable of doing it.

"Don't worry about it," she quickly said. "Rich, we've got some test subjects for 3X7. Ratchet caught a few pirates that had the virus. Somehow, they've broken out of it..."

"I shocked it out of them," Ratchet said, manifesting his lightning ravager and showing it to Talwyn.

"Oh," she said with a bit of distaste, then politely let it drop. "Anyway, can we send them to you? 3X7 might want to verify his patch. And we can't just leave them on Veldin."

"Okay," Rich said. "Give me a minute to get a squad in here, then send 'em through. We'll take care of it from this side. Once they're patched, we'll send them back to The Wrench in Polaris."

"I will need a copy of the patch for my own systems," Clank said. "I have already had one encounter with the virus, and I do not wish to repeat that experience."

"You've got it, Clank," Rich said. There was dead air for a moment, and then Rich continued, "Look, I know you don't want help. But if you need anything, contact me; I'll have a team waiting, just in case."

"Thanks, Rich," Ratchet said. "We'll be okay."

"I've heard that before," Rich said darkly. "Give me a minute, then send them through."

Rich disconnected the transD aspect of the link. Ratchet turned to glare at the pirates.

"On yer feet!" he barked. The four meditating ones did so. The fifth remained unconscious where he fainted. "Pick up yer mate. Yer goin' t' see the doctor. He's gonna fit ya with a patch that'll knock out the virus. After yer patched, they're gonna send ya back t' Sprocket in Polaris." Ratchet glared at them again. "Consider yerselves lucky," he said ominously.

Talwyn activated her door glove, focusing in on Rich. Once the portal formed, she and Ratchet could see at least eight deputies on the other side, waiting with weapons drawn. Ratchet gestured with his lightning ravager. "Through the portal!" he commanded. "'n don' give me friends any trouble, 'r yull be scrap in microseconds. Got it?!?"

The four conscious pirates nodded, the fifth suspended between them.

"Now move!"

The pirates passed through the door frame, single file. They had to turn the unconscious robot on his side to fit through the portal, but eventually they all crossed over into Leonid and were taken into custody by Tim and the Region Nine Deputy Squad.

Rich moved to the doorway and tossed a blue software patch crystal to Ratchet. The lombax caught it automatically, handing it to Clank. Rich waved and the plane of energy began to shimmer as the portal collapsed and winked out of existence.

* * *

Talwyn picked through the rubble that had once been Ratchet's home. Unfortunately, the pirates had been extremely thorough; there was little remaining that was even recognizable. Talwyn shook her head and muttered darkly to herself, cursing quietly at the pirates and wishing that she had aimed for something more permanent than that one's shoulder.

Ratchet could not watch. Instead, he busied himself carefully checking Aphelion's 'blind spots', those shielded areas that she could not directly scan herself. The lombax was lying face up on the ground, his feet sticking out from underneath his ship's forward weapon array.

Clank was in the co-pilot's seat, examining the software patch crystal, evaluating the anti-virus software contained on it. "Ratchet," he said, "the patch looks stable. It is fully compatible with both my systems and with Aphelion's. I will install the software for both of us."

"Okay," Ratchet muttered, somewhat distracted. This was a really tight spot to work, just where the power feeds for the plasma array joined with the primary energy converter. "Is that okay with you, Aphelion?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," Aphelion replied. "I trust Clank's ability and his evaluation of the patch."

"Lemme know if ya need a hand," Ratchet answered, pulling himself further under the ship to check the primary thrust coupler.

"I am installing the upgrade now," Clank said. There was a short pause, followed by, "Installation completed. Everything appears to be functioning properly." Clank chuckled slightly. "Apparently, Doctor 3X7 has a sense of humor..."

"What'd'ya mean?" Ratchet asked. There was a small protective case, less than three centicubits square, attached on Aphelion's chassis near the thrust coupler. Given its difficult to reach location, it was not something that would be easy to find unless he was looking for it. One thing Ratchet was certain about; he did not put it there, and it did not look like it was part of Aphelion's design.

"There are alternative music recommendations, labeled as 'superior selections' embedded in the patch, along with numerous sample datastream clips."

Ratchet chuckled. Nice touch. "That's funny. I wonder what they sound like. Aphelion, can you scan where my fingers are?"

"No, Ratchet," she replied. "I cannot."

"There's a small box, about three by three by one, wedged by your thrust coupler. I didn't put it there, and I don' think it's normal. Can ya check yer specs?"

Aphelion paused for a moment as she studied her internal system design. "No, Ratchet," she said. "That is not part of my original construction."

"Figures," Ratchet muttered. He was finally able to get his fingers around the box and pulled. At first it did not come off, but finally broke free after repeated attempts. There were no power leads or any visible interconnection with Aphelion's systems, and there was a residue of Zany Stik on the back of the square box. Ratchet looked at it carefully; it appeared to be relatively new - the metal was still smooth and there was no trace of wear. It was however, coated with a dark lubricant, possibly as camouflage, possibly to make it more difficult to remove.

"Aphelion," Clank said, "I am ready to install the software patch into your systems."

Aphelion acknowledged. "Thank you, Clank." There was a slight pause. "Will it be painful?"

Clank chuckled slightly. "No," he said.

There was a gentle sigh from Aphelion's speakers. "Go ahead." There was a pause, and then Aphelion said, "Installation completed."

"Are the clips any good?" Ratchet asked, working his way out from underneath the ship.

"Surprisingly, yes," Aphelion answered. "There are two that I am particularly taken with."

"Buy the albums and download 'em. I'll check 'em out later."

"I shall, Ratchet," she said. "Thank you."

The lombax had finally crawled out from under his ship, with a square box in his right glove. The gloves' autoclean systems had already removed the traces of lubricant, conductive grease and general grime from Ratchet's hands. "Clank," he called out. "Can you scan this?"

Clank leapt out of Aphelion and landed somewhat heavily on his feet, flexing his knees to cushion the sudden impact. He walked over to Ratchet and took the small box from him. His antenna pulsed. "You are correct, Ratchet," he said. "This rather heavily shielded box contains a tracking device. It is similar in design to the one you located earlier, but appears to be significantly more advanced. It even contains some transD circuitry."

Ratchet nodded. Typical. The lombax retrieved the tracker he had found earlier in the cereal box from his manifestor and the shielded one from Clank. Ratchet walked over to the thorntree. Looking up at its height, Ratchet was pleased to see that it was growing reasonably well, but even he had to admit a little disappointment at the anemic muddy brown of its thorns. The lombax began digging a small hole in the loose soil at the base of the tree with his gloved hands.

"Ratchet!" Talwyn called out.

The lombax looked over to her; she was standing amid the ruins of his adopted parents' house, with something in her hands. "Gimme a minute," he said. Turning his attention back to digging, he buried both tracker components in a shallow hole at the base of the thorntree. "Track this, Rich," he muttered. After he had covered over the components and compacted the soil, he stood and moved toward the ruins of his house. From her location compared to the foundation outlines, she would have been standing approximately in his parents' bedroom.

Very sadly, the lombax slowly made his way to Talwyn, his large, booted feet crushing down on the scraps of charred materials. The sound made the lombax cringe. Ratchet did not even look down; he did not want to know. But his ears and tail lowered with each step he took.

Talwyn looked up from the item she was holding and read the look in his eyes. Very quickly, she moved through the debris of the house to meet him where he stood. She grabbed Ratchet by the upper arm, tightly gripping the lombax above his right glove and pulling him around, away from the house, leading him towards Aphelion. In a light voice that tried to hide how much she regretted calling him over and making him wade in the rubble, she said, "Look what I found!" She offered the item to Ratchet.

It was a still image of two beings that were generally humanoid / canine in appearance. One of the beings, the taller of the pair, had flame red fur, orange eyes, a pair of small, pointed, almost conical ears on either side near the top of his head. He had his right arm affectionately around the shoulders of the smaller being; his left arm was pointed straight out, away from him, as though he was holding the image recorder at arm's length to capture the scene. The smaller female had slightly darker fur that was a little more brownish than red, somewhat less angular features and yellow eyes that seemed very bright and moist. She held a third creature cradled carefully in her arms: a tiny orange puff that seemed to be mostly ears and feet with a thin, threadlike tail that stood out yellowish against the female's fur. Both the male and female were smiling happily on their elongated muzzles; the small puff looked like it was asleep nestled against its adopted mother's fur.

Ratchet took the still image and immediately forgot the ruins of the house. His ears and tail perked a bit and he walked over to sit at the base of the thorntree. Talwyn followed and sat down next to him; Clank stood to his right.

Ratchet looked at Clank and Talwyn in turn, then stared back down at the still image. "My parents," he said, unnecessarily, his voice a million cubits away. Even though both Talwyn and Clank realized this immediately without his assistance, they both nodded anyway. "They took this when they first adopted me. They wanted t' have pups o' their own, but never could. They were so happy..." The raw emotion in Ratchet's voice caused the lombax to choke up a little and he fell silent.

Clank studied the image carefully. "Ratchet," he said very quietly, "there is a small datamark in the corner of the image. It reads, 'Cogswell, Millicent and Ratchet'. There is a time stamp as well, but I suspect that it is invalid - 00:00 01/001/000.01..."

A small grin broke out on Ratchet's muzzle. "Mom's the only one that called dad 'Cogswell', 'n only when she was really mad at him. He hated it; he thought it sounded pretentious. His friends all called him 'Cog'..." Ratchet's voice trailed off again.

"Based on your size in this photograph," Clank said still in that same somewhat hushed voice, "you must have been approximately two weeks old."

"That fits," Talwyn said. "We always figured your father brought you to Solana about then." Talwyn looked closely at Ratchet, his eyes fixed on the familiar image. Smiling slightly, she reached over and lightly scratched the fur at the base of his left ear, knowing full well how much it annoyed him. "You looked so cute back then," she mused, mockingly. "What happened?"

Ratchet chuckled. "I grew up," he said. "It's hard t' believe, but in less than a year, they'd be chasin' me 'round the house, tryin' t' get dad's wrench outta my hands..." Ratchet smiled fondly at the still, then looked up at the ruins of the house. Talwyn stared into his eyes a bit worried, but the smile never left the lombax's muzzle. "Outta everything in the house," Ratchet said, "this's the only thing that really mattered." Meeting Talwyn's eyes, his grin grew a little wider. "As long as yer in Solana, wanna see our old apartment in Metropolis?"

* * *


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: A Special Invitation**

Aphelion's passenger cabin was a little crowded; Ratchet was in the pilot's seat, Talwyn was in the co-pilot's seat and Clank was sitting on her lap. It was fortunate that Clank was so small; had either Zephyr or Cronk been accompanying them, there would have been no way for all three to fit in the lombax fighter while in space *. They flew on in a strange silence, with only Aphelion's audio replication of one of the newly purchased albums to be heard.

(* - Previously, when Zephyr and Cronk had both been in Aphelion with Talwyn while watching the Leonid Compendium of Historic Importness that Ratchet had brought back from New Fastoon, they had been sitting on Alphelion's chassis with their legs in the rear storage area. Had the canopy been closed, as required for most organic species, this would not have been possible. And Ratchet was still finding unpopped kernels of popcorn in the storage area, even two years later.)

Before they left Veldin, Ratchet had 'recommended' that Talwyn use the glove to return to New Fastoon and to return once they had safely arrived on Kerwan. Talwyn saw through Ratchet's 'promise' that he would contact her 'as soon as they touched down', and opted to ride along instead. The lombax had tried to get her back to Leonid and to safety. Since neither Al nor Sasha had replied when Ratchet tried yet again to contact them, he personally suspected that things were not going well in Metropolis. But Talwyn took one look at him and knew that there was more to his intention than he said.

"I woulda called ya," Ratchet said. "Honest."

"I'm sure you would have," Talwyn retorted hotly, "the minute every last drone on the planet was cleared of the virus, you distributed the patch to everyone personally and had it out with Courtney Gears. Unh unh. I'm going too. And whether you like it or not, I'm going to help you."

"But it's gonna be dangerous," he tried. "I just wanna look around first. Really..."

"Don't you think that I can handle myself?" Talwyn responded.

Things went downhill from there.

Now they flew on with only the sound of the rather catchy audio stream to break the mood. Clank looked at his friends and sighed. He knew it was only temporary, but it pained him to see them this way. Finally, Ratchet broke the silence.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's been a long day, I'm tired, 'n I wasn't thinking. I know ya can handle yerself; prob'bly better than I can. I'm just worried about you, that's all."

Talwyn turned and looked at Ratchet's face and muzzle. He meant what he said; it was clear on his features. But one thing she didn't notice before suddenly became much more apparent: Ratchet _was_ tired. His ears were drooping a little, even without the load of emotion he was carrying. "I know," she said gently. "I'm sorry, too. I took it wrong." She looked into his eyes. "You look tired. What happened? Do you need some nanotech?"

"Nah," Ratchet said, shrugging it off. "I just didn't get much sleep last night. Since the pirates attacked the station, things've been real busy."

"I know," Talwyn said, unconvinced. She knew that the lombax was very fit and maintained a physical training regimen that put the other deputies to shame (and drove some to their knees in exhaustion), but Talwyn was starting to wonder if the two years of carefully watched safety of New Fastoon had taken some of the edge off her mate. And they were both getting older.

Ratchet looked at the swirling colors of the wormhole, thinking the same thing. Well, maybe not quite in those terms. Ratchet was thinking that maybe he should increase the difficulty of the invasion simulation, and maybe start working on a new, even harder, course.

"Ratchet, Talwyn," Clank began. "I am receiving a transD signal from Rich. Switching to group. Go ahead Rich."

"Thanks, Clank," Rich said. "Ratchet, Talwyn, I finally got you."

Ratchet and Talwyn looked at each other, puzzled. "Wha'd'ya mean?" Ratchet asked.

"We just spoke a little while ago," Talwyn added.

"The, uh, deputy I sent you reported back that there was nothing but ruins where she arrived," Rich said. "The only thing she found of interest was a somewhat unhappy looking thorntree..."

Ratchet chuckled. "I'll make ya a deal, Rich: you stop planting trackers on Aphelion, and I'll stop buryin' 'em. Okay?"

"Why did you need to track us anyway?" Talwyn asked. "You knew where we were. We're not trying to run. You could've just asked..."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and then Rich quietly muttered, "But where's the fun in that?"

Both Ratchet and Clank began to chuckle loudly at that, nodding their heads in agreement. Talwyn just glared at them, a strange look on her face. "Males..." she muttered softly to herself.

"I believe that you had news for us," Clank prompted.

"Yeah! Thanks, Clank. We received a transD call from Mayor Phyronix of Metropolis. She and her technical advisor had been driven into a bunker inside the planetary defense center. It seems a large number of drones become infected and attacked various parts of the city, including your old apartment, the mayor's office and the administration building. They received your messages, but thought you were still in Leonid. They tried to reach you over transD a couple of times, but failed. Finally, they called Ambassador Parallax at the Apogee Station. She told them you were in Solana, and also provided them a copy of the software patch. They're trying it out now, and they said they'll contact you when they get the chance."

"Okay," Ratchet said. "We're about an hour from Kerwan at this point. That'll give 'em time t' see if it works. We'll contact you when we get there."

"Good. We also sent those pirates back to Polaris. 3X7 checked them over, and apart from some ravager damage and one wounded shoulder, they seemed fine. The doctor cleared them and we sent them back to The Wrench. Captain Waterman was lecturing them when the portal closed; I think he was trying to either convert them or recruit them to the LDM before turning them over to the pirate fleet."

Ratchet chuckled to himself. "I wonder if that's how Waterman started..." he muttered aloud.

"Perhaps," Clank nodded.

Rich asked in a puzzled voice, "What do you mean?"

Ratchet was quick to close that line of discussion. He was certain that the captain would not want his past discussed like this. "Nevermind," Ratchet said over the link. "Is everything back to normal on New Fastoon?"

"Yeah," Rich said. "Or at least as normal as it ever gets. The patch is in, the datastore is purged. A few of the newer bots have been reverse engineering the virus; there have been a few pranks - but nothing too serious. Zephyr and Cronk were reluctant about getting the patch at first, saying they didn't listen to, uh, 'that confound nuisance you yunguns call pop music', but when they saw the damage it caused they finally agreed."

Talwyn shook her head with a smile. She knew the warbots better than anyone and was not at all surprised.

"Other than that, not much going on. Reg and Mel want to visit and let you meet Crystal. Justin got his allowance and told me he's halfway there for your wrench."

That brought a smile to Ratchet's face. Talwyn looked over at him a little confused. "Later..." he muttered.

"That's about it here," Rich said. "I've still got a squad ready if you need 'em. Let me know."

"Okay," Ratchet said. "We'll let you know when we check out Metropolis. Thanks. Later." Clank disconnected the transD. "Aphelion, could you try the mayor again?"

"Certainly, Ratchet," she replied.

"What was that thing about the wrench?" Talwyn asked.

"I offered t' sell my old one t' Justin... His first tool..." Ratchet answered.

Clank added a little more explanation. "Ratchet priced it so that Justin would have to save for three weeks to have sufficient bolts for the purchase."

Talwyn nodded; Ratchet had told her the story of his first wrench long ago. "That was really sweet of you," she said, reaching over with her left arm and rubbing his shoulder and neck lightly. The lombax rolled his head and shoulders in response to her touch. It felt nice.

There was a polite coughing sound from the speakers. Aphelion said delicately, "Please stop. Even with my video memory cleared, I can still recall Rich and Nichole's neobond trip. I promised myself that I would not allow that again."

Talwyn yanked her hand away from Ratchet quite quickly and flushed a deep red. "I wasn't! Really!"

Clank and Ratchet merely laughed, more at her reaction than anything else.

"I understand that, Talwyn," Aphelion said. "But I thought I should say something anyway. Ratchet, I have the mayor of Metropolis online."

"Sasha? Ratchet."

"Hi, Ratchet," The cazar's voice sounded rather relieved. "It's great to hear from you! I thought you were still stuck in Leonid."

"Nope!" Ratchet said, rather happily. "I got sprung. They got rid of the tracers. Now all I've gotta deal with is the LDM followin' me ev'rywhere I go, but I lost 'em fer a while. How're things there?"

"Actually, very well... now," she replied. "We received the patch from Ambassador Parallax at the Lombax Embassy. It was embedded in some audio clips, so we started broadcasting on all frequencies. It cleared up most of the drones that went crazy." Her tone darkened a bit. "There were still some casualties, though. A few robots destroyed themselves trying to tear apart your old apartment complex. They blew it apart, but at least seven were terminated in the process. There's not much left of the building except for a few support structures."

Ratchet sighed. Ever since the day that he and Clank had turned their backs and walked away from the ruins of their Metropolis apartment, Ratchet had never really thought of going back there. Until today. But the thought of another seven robots dead because of the virus... Because of him... "I'm sorry..." he said quietly.

"It's not your fault," Sasha was quick to say. "Courtney Gears is the one that spread the virus. We've got a warrant out for her capture and dad's got the entire galaxy on alert. We'll get her." Ratchet did not think it would be all that easy, but with her father as Galactic President, they could call on the rangers to search as well. "So that's about it. Al's back at the shop, helping those damaged by the virus. Sorry you wasted a trip. But you can always stop by the office - I'd really like to see all of you."

"That sounds like a great idea," Talwyn said. "Sasha, Melody had her kit. It's a girl! She and Reg were talking about coming over to visit and introduce us to Crystal. Why don't we meet at your place?"

"That sounds great, Talwyn," Sasha said. "Give me a few hours to get this administrivia done. See you then." There was a click as the line disconnected.

"Clank..." Talwyn started, but was immediately interrupted by the robot on her lap.

"I am attempting to reach Rich now via transD..."

* * *

Reg thought that it was a great idea, and he, Melody, Justin and Crystal would come through the portal in a few hours, locking in on Ratchet. Rich was determined to come also and was bringing some deputies along, whether Ratchet wanted them or not. Ratchet reluctantly agreed, if only to have them keep an eye on Justin. New Fastoon was a lot safer for the kit than Metropolis could ever be, and a squad of deputies watching the one year old was probably a really good idea.

Aphelion landed at the old space port where Ratchet and Clank first arrived on Kerwan, so many years ago. It brought back a lot of memories for the lombax. They strolled around, Ratchet and Talwyn arm in arm, Clank riding on the lombax's backpack straps, taking in the sites, visiting some of the areas that Ratchet was familiar with, detailing some of their battles, etc. Ratchet took a great deal of pride in stopping by the local Gadgetron vendor and showing off some of his lombax designed weapons to the clerk - the same one he dealt with last time he was here (and who still called him a fuzzball every chance he could). While he was there, he topped off his ammunition supply for some of his oldest weapons from his Solana days; it was very hard to get Gadgetron ammo in Leonid.

They wandered around for a little over an hour, then decided to start heading toward the Administration Complex. As they walked along the grassy park near Al's Roboshop, Ratchet heard a familiar rocket noise approaching. Talwyn drew her blasters, but Ratchet shook his head. "Clank," he called out over his shoulder. "Is that what I think it is?"

"If you believe that the incoming noise is a balloon-a-gram, Ratchet," Clank replied, "you are correct."

"A balloon-a-gram?" Talwyn asked.

"It is the same messaging device that I used to prerecord your neobond announcement," Clank replied.

"Riiiight," Talwyn drawled, nodding.

Clank dropped from the backpack straps and stood at Ratchet's left. The three of them watched as a small rocket landed a few feet in front of them. There were three balloons attached to its nose cone, two black and one red one. Ratchet did not recognize the color combination, but watched as a small vidscreen unfolded from the body of the rocket. There was a loud, but somewhat tinny, fanfare.

"_Congratulations..._ Capt'n Ratchet... _You have received a balloon-a-gram from..._ Peter Ferroxide and Courtney Gears."

"Rusty Pete?" Ratchet exclaimed, extremely surprised, manifesting his combustors.

"Courtney Gears," Clank suspiciously said, shaking his head. He was pleased to see a blaster manifest in Talwyn's hand as well.

There was another fanfare. All three of them waited in stunned silence as Rusty Pete and Courtney Gears appeared on the screen.

"Ahoy, Captain! I'm glad I found ye. I hope yer doin' well, 'n that yer not too mad 'bout me (hic) givin' up piracy 'n all. But I met the wench o' me dreams!" Pete hugged Courtney close, a huge smile on his somewhat intoxicated face. Courtney did not seem nearly as pleased. "I hope yer able t' come t' our weddin'. We's waitin' (hic), hopin' ya'd get 'ere."

"Pete, my love," Courtney said, giving Pete an affectionate look. "Why don't you be a dear and check on our arrangements. Make sure that everything is ready and that we have enough supplies for our guests. Ratchet and I go way back, too. I'll give him all the details."

Pete's eyes glowed lovingly. "Yes, dear," he answered, making a gesture as though he was tipping a non-existent hat to her. He stepped out of the vid shot.

Courtney watched him go and then turned back to face the video recorder. Her eyes hardened as she glared out of the screen at them. "Well, Ratchet," she said, her voice as cold as ice. "I'm soooo glad we get to meet again. I see that my little calling card has gotten you to crawl out from whatever foul nest you burrowed for yourself.

"Last time we met, you left me for dead on Obani Draco. But I've learned my lesson. Oh, yes, Ratchet! A long, hard lesson it was, too! Years of physical reconstruction and therapy, followed by another three trying to rebuild my audience and fan base." She glared again, the hatred and contempt in her face plain for all to see. "Because of you, I had to stoop to judging Galactic Idol! For Six Whole Seasons!

"But now, I'm back on top. I'm sure you've heard my latest album. I sincerely hope that Agent Clank has too. That turncoat deserved having his free will stripped from him." Clank's eyes narrowed in anger and his hands clenched. Ratchet put his hand on his friend's metallic shoulder. "If you can't make the right choice and you side against your own kind, you don't deserve the right to make a choice at all!

"But enough about him. This is personal. This is between you and me. Last time, I wanted to save your skin to make a fur coat for myself. This time I won't bother; it would look tacky anyway." She glared into the recorder lens. "If you think the virus was bad, wait until you see what I have planned for you, and for the rest of the squishies on this pitiful world. I want to see you squirm. I want to see you bleed. I want to see you suffer. And then, after a _really_ long time, I want to see you die!"

Courtney suddenly turned to her left and Rusty Pete's voice could be heard on the recording. "Dear, (hic) all's set. The kegs're filled 'n the grog'll flow free... (hic)"

"That's wonderful, dear," she said to Pete. "I was just telling Ratchet how much I wanted to see him again." She turned back to the camera. "I really hope to see you soon, Ratchet," she crooned sweetly. "Meet us outside the Planetary Defense Center. It'll be a blast!"

* * *


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: The Happy Couple**

Ratchet watched in a state of shock as the screen folded back into the rocket. Courtney Gears was one thing. But the amount of venom she carried and the depths she had sunk to in her personal vendetta seemed overwhelming. Galactic Idol for six seasons? No wonder she went insane...

"I believe that she is rather irritated with you, Ratchet," Clank observed dryly. "Are you still impressed with that that video of her?"

The lombax shook his head. "No..." he said quietly.

"What did you _do_ to her?" Talwyn asked. "What happened on Obani Draco?" Her eyes narrowed. "Is this another woman from your past that I should know about?"

"It was nothin' like that," Ratchet answered quickly. "She was tryin' to exterminate all organic life, 'n was testin' a biobliterator ray fer Doctor Nefarious. I used a lava gun t' melt her down a bit, that's all." Ratchet looked at the balloon-a-gram rocket. "Obviously, not enough..."

The balloons suddenly started to swell and there was another fanfare. Talwyn shouted, "Get down!" Everyone dropped to the ground as the balloons exploded, sending red and black confetti raining down over them... The rocket took off, speeding back in the direction of the Administration Building and the Planetary Defense Center. Somewhat embarrassed, they climbed back to their feet and brushed off the confetti.

"They know we're here," Ratchet said. "That rocket went straight back to 'em. We'd better get movin'."

Clank leapt up and landed on Ratchet's backpack straps, sealing the connecting bolt. The lombax grimaced with the sudden weight and he readjusted the straps again - they had still not settled properly into his fur since he removed the backpack on the Apogee Station.

"I'm surprised Pete's working with Courtney Gears," Talwyn said.

"I don't think he is," Ratchet said, shaking his head. They summoned a hovercab and climbed on top of the floating platform. "He seemed pretty oblivious on the invite."

"I agree, Ratchet," Clank said. "I do not believe that Rusty Pete is aware of the danger that he is in, or of his fiancee's more diabolical nature." The cab pulled away from the pedway and floated into the air traffic pattern. "It is more likely that she has somehow tricked Pete into assisting her."

"But why Pete?" Ratchet mused. "I mean, if I wanted help tryin' t' kill me, I wouldn't pick Pete as my first choice. Or even my third 'r fourth..."

"I do not know, Ratchet," Clank replied. "However I am concerned about the words 'kegs' and 'blast'. Perhaps they intend to use high explosives to destroy the Planetary Defense Center..."

"That seems rather brute force, doesn't it," Talwyn said, shaking her head. The taxi was approaching the pedway leading to the Planetary Defense Center. They could see it in the distance. The only unusual thing they noticed was that it was completely deserted. "I mean, there are lots of easier ways to destroy things." She looked at Ratchet and chuckled slightly. "And here I thought I was being original - threatening to skin you alive for a lombax-fur coat..."

"Lombax fur's fairly popular," Ratchet laughed. "Especially t' lombaxes..."

The hovercab neared the pedway. Ratchet paid the fare and the cab parked parallel to the walkway so that they could safely disembark. They proceeded carefully along the relatively narrow stone path. While there was sufficient space for all three of them to walk side by side, the hazard of falling off one of the edges was still very real. They were easily kilocubits above any solid surface, and accidentally going over the edge would not be good. Ratchet has to admire the craftsmanship, though; much of this pedway had been destroyed during Tachyon's invasion, but the inhabitants of the city had rebuilt it so well that he could barely tell where the damaged sections where. They had even gone so far as to plant potted trees evenly spaced along each edge for shade.

They did not have to walk very far. Approximately one hundred cubits in front of them was a small red and black pavilion; the color scheme of the fabric tent matching the balloon-a-gram and the confetti. Under its shelter, they could see Rusty Pete, freshly painted in red and black as well, rolling several metal clad, insulated barrels along the pedway, placing them in a neat stack in the middle of the structure. After setting the latest barrel in place he looked up and saw them.

"Ahoy, captain!" he called out, moving forward to greet them. He had a smile on his face and extended his hand in welcome. "I'm so (hic) glad ye could come. I thought ye might be mad I left Sprocket 'n the lads. But I had t' fol... (hic) ...low me 'eart. Is great t' see ye." He turned toward Talwyn. "Good day t' ya, miss. I 'ope the captain's been treatin' ya well."

"Very well," Talwyn said, before Ratchet broke in.

"Pete, what's goin' on?"

"We're gettin' 'itched!" the pirate said with a smile.

"You and Courtney Gears?" Ratchet asked, his voice incredulous.

"Aye!"

"If I may ask, how did the two of you meet?" Clank said, dropping from Ratchet's backpack and facing Pete.

"Hi, Clank. Didn' (hic) see ya there." Looking up, he answered, "I writ 'er fan mail. Told 'er all 'bout meself, what I done, where I been, whatnot. She writ back! Coulda knocked me over wi' a parrot's feather. She wanted t' know more 'bout me, me 'obbies, me crew, even me capt'n."

"He's an absolute genius when it comes to organic chemistry."

At the sound of Courtney Gears' voice, everyone turned. Just beyond the barrels, the seductive siren watched them carefully. She was painted and dressed all in black with a red sash around her waist. While her costume certainly matched the rest of the decor, Ratchet could not get over a different image: she also reminded him of some highly poisonous insects on some of the planets he had been to.

"Dear!" Pete cooed and moved to her side.

"Pete's fantastic when it comes to mixing things," she said lovingly, stroking the side of his face with the back of her hand.

"'tis a gift (hic)," Pete said. "Even ol' Capt'n Slag use t' let me do the mixin'. I'd whip up a batch o' grog that'd put rust down yer gullet 'n burn a whole though yer gut." He looked at Ratchet and said in a quieter voice, "I'd even been doin' the bartendin' in our pub on the side."

"It _is_ a gift, dear," Courtney said. Tapping the barrels, she continued, "And we have plenty for everybody." She turned to look at the lombax. Pointing at him, she said, "Here, Ratchet! Why don't you try some?"

It happened very quickly. There was a tiny puffing sound and a projectile shot out of Courtney's fingertip. It hit Ratchet in his left thigh. At first, Ratchet didn't even notice it, but then saw something shiny embedded though his jeans and fur, into his skin. He pulled it out; it was a very fine needle made from what looked like silver. It was hollow and at the end of it was a small, empty bulb. Ratchet looked at his leg carefully. A tiny trickle of blood ran from where the needle had penetrated.

The lombax tossed the needle aside. He didn't feel a thing. Clank carefully picked it up from where Ratchet had discarded it. His antenna pulsed. Very quietly, he said, "Oh my..."

"What?" Ratchet asked, knowing just how seriously to take Clank's tone. He looked at his leg again. It looked fine, but was still bleeding slightly. That surprised Ratchet a little - usually the nanotech in his system would have repaired the damage by now. And the blood was a slightly dark color; at first it ran crimson, but it had darkened significantly until it was now almost black. Ratchet looked at the color scheme in a slightly different way. Not funny, he though.

"Ratchet, the contents appear to be a mixture of a potent anesthetic and a form of carboxyl acid," Clank said, concern in his voice. "This is a rather dangerous combination."

Pete looked at Courtney. "Dear," he said, concern in his voice too, "me grog's too strong fer (hic) fleshy folk like the Capt'n 'n his bride. I warned ye it would be."

"I think that was the whole point, Pete," Talwyn said.

Ratchet didn't see what all the fuss was about. He felt fine.

"Pete," Clank began. "Do you not understand that Courtney Gears is using you? She has already unleashed a virus that has resulted in the termination of six of your colleagues. She has manipulated you into creating a deadly venom."

"No." Pete said, looking back and forth between Clank and Courtney. "She loves me fer who I be."

"Of course I do, sweetums," Courtney cooed.

Clank shook his head. "Pete. Use your logic center." Clank displayed a still image of the dead pirates from the Apogee Station, projecting it in the space between them. "This is what she did to your companions."

"No!" Pete shouted, twisting away so he did not have to look at the image Clank was projecting. "She wouldn't (hic) do that! She loves me! She loves me fer (hic) me body!"

"If that is accurate," Clank said, "then you must have interfaced with her. Am I correct?"

Pete grinned a little, hanging his head a bit and chuckling. "A gentlemen never tells..."

"Examine the log files from those encounters. What information did she download while she was within your security protocols?

Ratchet looked over at his friend and noticed that the tip of his antenna was ever so faintly glowing. Uh oh...

"That's just not done!" Pete protested.

"Are you concerned that such an examination would reveal something you do not wish to discover?"

Pete shook his head. Courtney whispered to him, "But I love you..."

Pete's eyes suddenly opened wide. He turned to Courtney. "You conniving (hic) wench! You hussy! You no good, lyin' (hic) stumpet! You used me. You used me t' (hic)... t'... t' get t' me crew! Me Capt'n!" Pete backed away and pulled out a long blunderbuss. Ratchet had seen the pirates use smaller versions of these as blasters before, but it was the first time he had ever seen one as a rifle. "Yer gonna regret the day ye messed w' me 'n me mates!"

Courtney Gears was unimpressed. She punched Pete very hard under his jaw, sending him flying over the barrels, over Ratchet, Talwyn and Clank, to land with a clatter nearly four cubits behind them. Ratchet turned and ran toward him, but as he did, he found that his left leg was not working properly. It was not numb, but it was not moving as it should; he could not bend it properly.

Pete was unconscious and his optics were dark. His hand clenched the long blunderbuss and a grating snore escaped his throat. Ratchet turned back and limped to the others. The trickle of dark blood had widened slightly as more of the black viscous fluid oozed from the tiny wound.

Courtney glared at them. "No big loss," she said. "He played his part. Now, Ratchet..." She smiled. "After all these years, I finally get to see you die!"

* * *


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Blood, Metal and Fur**

Clank jumped on Ratchet's backpack straps, locking into place. The surprising addition of sudden weight almost made the lombax topple over to his left. His leg was supporting him, but his muscles seemed almost unfamiliar and unresponsive. "Fall back!" he called out to Talwyn. He and Talwyn worked their way backward along the pedway, until they could take cover behind some of the potted trees.

Courtney taunted them along the way. "Aw... The hero of the galaxy is running away!" She was then met with the sudden explosion from one of Ratchet's judicator rounds striking her in the chest. Courtney barely reacted; she was knocked backward a step by the force of the blow, but the explosion left her unharmed. She moved towards them, around the barrels. There was a twisted smile on her face.

"I learned, Ratchet," she called out. "My chassis is triple strength raritanium alloy with positronic reinforcement. It cost almost every bolt I had, but your pitiful missiles won't even put a ding in it!"

Ratchet hoped she was exaggerating. He knew enough about armor and metallurgy to know the strength of that combination. He looked across the pedway at Talwyn, hiding behind the ornamental tree to his right. She still had her blaster in her hand.

Instead of shouting and broadcasting their possible locations and intentions, Ratchet opened a comm link with both her and Clank. "Uh, Talwyn," he 'said' into the link, "If you've still got that alpha disrupter I gave ya for our anniversary, now's a real good time t' break it in!"

She looked across the pedway at him and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry about that. Habit..." The blaster vanished and the significantly larger alpha disrupter appeared in her hands. While not as powerful or as heavily upgraded as Ratchet's alpha cannon, it still packed a much stronger punch than a common blaster. Talwyn started it charging.

Courtney, meanwhile, had fired a volley of the tiny darts at Ratchet. One of them struck him in his right shoulder (he did not feel it), the other hit the tree he was hiding behind. As he watched, Ratchet could see the leaves starting to droop in front of him and a thin stream of dark brown sap bubbled from the small puncture. His eyes finally caught the gleam of silver in his shoulder and he carefully pulled the needle out, trying not to spill whatever vile fluid (Pete's 'grog' he supposed) from the bulb. A bit of blood began to run down his arm. As he cursed himself for not changing into his armor ahead of time, he saw the crimson start to darken. He still did not feel a thing.

"Careful!" he thought to Talwyn. "These darts are nasty!"

"You're the one takin' all the hits!" Talwyn shot back as she peeked out from behind her somewhat larger, more mature tree. She aimed at Courtney and fired the alpha disruptor. A beam of energy shot out, knocking the robot back a few steps and enveloping her with isokinetic energy. When the beam faded, Courtney remained standing, looking only slightly singed by the extremely powerful weapon.

Ratchet had taken the opportunity to move across the pedway, and had joined Talwyn on the right hand side. He manifested his own alpha cannon. "When I fire, move back to the next tree on your left. Ready?" Ratchet stepped out and fired with his own weapon. Talwyn moved back and to the left, taking cover behind the tree there.

The alpha cannon shot lasted for a significantly longer time and produced more striking results on Courtney. She appeared to be partially melted, especially on her chest where the beam struck. But she was not significantly disabled in any way. "Is that the best you've got, Ratchet?" she taunted, sending another wave of needles at him. "I expected better after all this time." She moved forward along the pedway, closing the distance between herself and the lombax.

Ratchet caught a faint glimmer of an energy portal, way to his left and behind him. It was hovering in midair, off the pedway. A similar portal, rectangular in shape, appeared behind Courtney. The door glove! Being used, well, as a regular door glove instead of as a dimensional portal. Talwyn's voice came to him over the link, "On three..." Ratchet nodded, charging the alpha cannon again. "One." "Two." "Three!"

On three, Ratchet stepped from behind the cover of the tree and fired another alpha cannon shot directly into Courtney Gears. At the same time, Talwyn fired her alpha disruptor through the rectangular opening created by her door glove. It passed into the portal to Ratchet's left and came out of the other one behind Gears. Sandwiched between the two blasts from the front and rear, Courtney gave a high scream as she was crushed between the beams, their energy feeding off each other in a devastating flare of raw power. Flailing her arms, she fired more of the needles haphazardly. The lombax did not feel if any struck him or not, but looking down inspecting himself, Ratchet could see two in his chest, one in his stomach and one in his right knee. He also felt a tiny trickle of blood running down his muzzle, brushed his face with his right hand and dislodged one from his cheek just below his left eye. His vision immediately starting to get blurry, especially to his left side. Ratchet could see Rusty Pete lying in front of him, but the lombax could not focus on him properly. The robot appeared to be moving slightly, groaning.

There was a swirl of energy behind him. "Ratchet!" Clank shouted urgently. "There is a dimensional portal opening behind us!"

The lombax's mind raced. They had been on Kerwan for a few hours now... Reg and Melody! And they would have Justin and Crystal with them! He spun quickly and caught a glimpse of orange fur within the swirling plane of energy that was forming. As the rift stabilized, Ratchet could easily pick out Rich, Reg and Melody. Justin was sitting on Reg's shoulders; Mel had a basket with her, lined with the red blankets and padding that were traditional for a female newborn. His eyes opened wide, horrified.

"Talwyn!" he shouted. "Whatever happens, get that portal closed! Don't let them come through!"

"But Ratch..."

"NOW!" The lombax did not wait. He manifested his RYNO and stepped out from behind his cover and ran, stumbling, toward Courtney Gears, firing as quickly as he could. Missiles pounded into her repeatedly as she continued to fire more and more of the needles at him. The explosions were having some effect, but Ratchet knew they would not be enough to destroy her. He mainly wanted to buy time; time to give Talwyn a chance to get the portal to New Fastoon closed, time to protect Justin and Crystal.

As he passed Rusty Pete, he saw the robot looking up, staring in disbelief at his bride to be. Ratchet moved passed him, continuing to pound Courtney with his RYNO. Suddenly from behind him, Ratchet heard Pete's voice, "A pirate evermore! Look out, capt'n!" Pete aimed his blunderbuss from his prone position on the pedway, activated the weapon and fired a high energy projectile, not at Courtney Gears, but at the barrels behind her.

The projectile pierced the barrel, passing through the insulation layer, metal and finally the neutronium inner lining. The seal ruptured and an inky black fluid began to drain out of the drum. The stonework of the pedway hissed as the ornamental surface layer dissolved away. Courtney, standing on the stonework, began to dissolve as well. She lost her footing as her legs began to disintegrate in the puddle of carboxyl acid.

Ratchet didn't know much about the grog that was in the barrels, but most of the mixes he had seen Slag swill down were highly explosive. Hoping this was no exception, Ratchet put away his RYNO and manifested his heavily upgraded incinerator. He was close enough where the fiery blasts would just reach the broached bar...

There was a titanic explosion. Courtney Gears was shredded by acid covered shrapnel striking her from behind at very close range. Her screaming curses echoed against the buildings around them.

The concussion wave lifted the lombax high into the air, buffeting him like a leaf in a tempest. Ratchet felt a strange numbness throughout most of his chest, face, arms and legs. Looking down at himself in a daze, he saw that his shirt and jeans were covered with the corrosive grog. His eyes went blurry and started to sting. After a moment or two, they began to burn...

"Ratchet!" Clank shouted.

The tired lombax spun in midair, his incinerator still in his hand, firing randomly at whatever was there. His bleary eyes focused just in time to see the instastone supports of another pedway as he slammed full force into it with a sickening crunch. The breath was knocked out of the lombax and he tumbled backwards, slowly peeling away from the stone.

The instastone had a vaguely lombax-shaped splatter stain in crimson and black on it.

Ratchet looked up at the mess he made. As he fell, he thought to himself that Sasha would be pissed...

* * *


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Uncomfortably Numb**

Floating...

That was it...

The sensation - floating.

Yes.

And warm!

Not uncomfortably so.

Where am I?

Ratchet tried to fight through the fog in his mind, trying to answer that one. He took a deep, shuddering breath. His chest felt kind of funny. He let the breath out. Again...

Okay. That's better. Again...

There were no scents that he could discern. His entire body felt numb, almost as if his brain had been removed and put in a jar, just like on one of those scary holovids he was watching with Nick. When was that? Days? Weeks? He couldn't remember.

He took another deep breath. And even though his chest still felt weird, he let it out and continued. The deep breathing helped; it gave him something to focus on, to cling to.

Finally, when he was ready, Ratchet opened his eyes.

There was nothing to see. Something was laying across his eyes.

Mildly irritated, Ratchet slowly reached with his right hand to remove whatever was there.

It took him a moment to realize that his right hand didn't move. It took him another moment to realize that he could not even feel his right hand. Or anything else for that matter!

A shot of adrenalin brought Ratchet to full consciousness, burning through the fog in his brain. He could not see because of some kind of gauze or bandage over his eyes. Very carefully and deliberately, he tried to move, to take stock of his body. But not matter how much he tried, the muscles in his arms, legs and chest were not working. Not only couldn't he tell if he actually moved them or not, he had no sensation at all!

Blind and paralyzed, Ratchet did the only thing he could think of: he screamed for help as loud as he possibly could.

Somewhere to his right there was a slight click. It sounded loud to Ratchet as he lay there and it immediately got his attention. Nichole's voice, artificially reproduced from an audio generator, quickly said, "Relax, Ratchet. You're going to be alright. I'll be right there." There was another click.

Ratchet wished that he could tremble. Oh no... Where was he? What happened? "Nichole?" "NICHOLE?"

"Relax, Ratchet. I'm here." It was Nichole's voice, sounding above him and a little to his right.

"Oh, Nichole," Ratchet gasped. His heart was racing and he could feel the pulse pounding in his throat, even if he could not feel it in his chest. "What's going on? Where am I? Where's Talwyn and Clank? What's..."

"Ssssshhhh..." Nichole soothingly hissed to him. "Take it easy, Ratchet." She was talking very slowly and calmly in her professional voice. Her normal driving energy was being carefully controlled. "I'll explain everything soon. But first, how do you feel?"

Ratchet shook his head and was pleasantly surprised to find that he could move that, and feel the back of his head rubbing against something smooth but yielding. A pillow? "I don't know," he said. "I can't see and I can't feel anything from the neck down. I can't move."

"Let me help you with that. A little at a time. Are your eyes closed?"

Ratchet shook his head slightly.

"Okay. I want you to close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you. Ready?"

Ratchet closed his eyes. "Okay."

The lombax had the vague sensation of something being unwound from around his head. It pulled at his ears occasionally and there was a slight scent of sterile gauze. Ratchet felt something being pulled from over his eyes.

"Now Ratchet, I want you to very slowly open your eyes. I've dimmed the lights in the room, but it will still seem very bright to you. Go slowly."

Ratchet opened his eyes a slit. The room seemed filled with a blinding radiance. Ratchet squinted into the light. Very slowly, his eyes adjusted until he was able to pick out a few details. Very few...

He was lying on his back. Above him was a plain white ceiling with carefully screened illumination filaments running through it. He could see Nichole standing over him, her very tired looking eyes a medium green, but slowly getting lighter, picking up a little bit of a sunlight color.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" Nichole asked. But Ratchet did not see her holding up her hand at all.

"Very funny," he muttered, completely unamused.

"Good!" she said. "What about now?" She raised her hand and held up two fingers.

"Two."

"Good. Your vision is getting back to normal. That was my main concern. The rest was relatively easy by comparison..."

"Where am I?"

"You're in the Absurdly Critical Care Unit across the hall from my office." She looked at him. "In Region Nine, on New Fastoon, in the Leonid Galaxy if you need more detail..."

"What happened? How did I get here?"

"I'm not surprised your memory is a little messed up," she said. "Do you remember Courtney Gears?"

He nodded. Yes. Courtney, Pete, needles, Crystal! Ratchet's eyes opened wide.

"I see that you do."

"Are Justin and Crystal okay?" Ratchet asked, his voice edging with hysteria.

"Yes, Ratchet. They're fine." Nichole explained calmly.

"What happened?"

"From what Clank and Talwyn told me, you decided to do something really stupid." She looked at him, and chided him kindly. "I thought you promised me you'd stop doing stupid things..."

Ratchet chuckled, finally relaxing a little. If Nichole could joke about it, he probably could too. "I told you I'd try," he said.

"Well, from what they told me, you did something stupid anyway. Talwyn saw you charge Courtney Gears, your RYNO blazing. She ran back to the portal and told Rich what was going on. Reg and Melody stepped out of the way and Rich brought the entire region nine deputy squad through. He had them ready to use as an honor guard for Reg and to keep an eye on Justin. But when Talwyn told them what happened, they came through immediately.

"Clank told me that one of the pirates shot a hole in a barrel and you decided to do something even dumber than usual and blew the entire mess up."

"I had to stop her somehow," Ratchet said.

"Well, it worked," Nichole continued. "The blast tore Courtney Gears to shreds. And while she was still functional, all that was left from the acid was her head, half her face, a portion of her right shoulder and her right arm. The deputies immobilized her in a port-a-prison and stabilized the acid until help from the Mayor's office and the Galactic Rangers arrived. They took what was left of Courtney Gears into custody and cleaned up the acid.

"You were blown backwards by the blast, covered from tip to tuft in acid along your entire front. Clank tried to warn you to duck, but you spun and hit face first into a stone wall. When you passed out, Clank fired his thrusters. He and Talwyn got what was left of you through the portal - to me. That was nearly four days ago."

"Four days?" Ratchet muttered. Nichole's words suddenly got through. "What was left of me?"

"Let's just say you were badly injured," Nichole said in a somewhat strained voice. "I've never seen anything like it. The acid splash and shrapnel from the explosion was bad enough. But whatever she shot at you injected a weird mix of anesthetic and acid deep under your skin. The drug blocked your nanotech and kept you moving around, causing even more damage. The black stuff you saw oozing out was what was left of your muscle after the acid liquefied it..."

His liquefied muscle? Ratchet retched slightly. What a horrible thought.

Nichole quickly finished her description, being a little less graphic. "Anyway, you suffered a lot of acid damage all down your front: on the skin, throughout your muscles and in your eyes and face. I had to rebuild them all. Oh, and you broke a bunch of ribs again when you slammed into the wall. The reason you can't move or feel anything is because I've got you heavily pumped with some serious pain blockers and a paralytic. If you weren't... well... you'd be screaming for real."

Ratchet nodded. "Okay," he said. "But everyone else is okay? What about Pete? The pirate that saved my life."

"Everyone else is fine," she said yet again. "The pirate, Pete, also had a little acid damage, but he seemed surprisingly immune to its effects. Doctor 3X7 out of the CALR looked him over and released him; he's back in Polaris. In fact, Captain Waterman on The Wrench took a personal interest in Pete and has him staying there for a little while."

Ratchet chuckled. "Maybe he wants t' bring him on board t' mix their fuel in engineering."

"What makes you say that?" Nichole asked.

Ratchet thought of Nicholas and Jasmine and a smile filled his muzzle. But out of respect, it was not for him to tell Nichole; she would find out quickly enough. "You'll see," he said mysteriously.

Nichole eyed him suspiciously then let the subject drop. "Once Talwyn and Clank brought you to New Fastoon and the Rangers took charge of things, Sasha and Al followed through the portal. They're staying with Talwyn until you're ready to have visitors. Melody brought Aphelion back through as well. The Wrench is still at the Lombax Embassy while Nicholas repairs the station; the ambassador had a whole list of upgrades she wanted done while they were there. But he should be back in a few days." She looked at Ratchet very closely, her eyes narrowed; he was smiling again. "That's about it," she said, somewhat warily.

"Thanks, Nichole," Ratchet said, his voice filled with gratitude. "Fer everything."

"You're welcome, Ratchet," she said. Then she chuckled. "Just wait 'til you see my bill!"

Ratchet laughed. His chest still felt kind of funny and he mentioned it to Nichole.

"That's because I'm still not done rebuilding all of your skin and muscles yet. I wanted to get your eyes working first because regenerating them is much more time sensitive."

Ratchet nodded.

Nichole looked at him critically. "Time for me to get back to work. And time for you to go back to sleep," she said.

"Sleep?" Ratchet asked, somewhat surprised. "I've been asleep fer four days! I'm not in the least bit..." Ratchet watched as Nichole glanced to his right. He followed her gaze to an infuser set up at the edge of the bed he was lying on. Hanging from it was a collection of no less than eight cylinders, and while he did not recognize most of them, he immediately knew what was in the electric blue one.

"No!" he protested weakly as a heavy veil of blackness fell over him.

* * *


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Recovery and Restitution**

The sun was pouring through the floor to ceiling glass windows, filling the room with a golden, glowing warmth. The bright beams landed directly on the bed, gently providing a bit of welcome extra heat to the heavily insulated white blanket laying across it before reflecting upward towards the ceiling and scattering multiple faint shadows around the room. The two padded chairs at the foot of the bed were empty at the moment, but the bed itself was occupied.

Ratchet stirred slightly, opened his eyes and looked around the familiar room. He remembered being here visiting Petrov when he was recovering from GBD last month; he just didn't think he would be back here this soon, or seeing it from this perspective. While the patient recovery room was well designed to let in as much light and air as possible, it was still a med center room no matter how hard you tried to disguise that fact.

The lombax lay in the bed and took careful stock of his situation. Nine days... A new personal record. The first four Ratchet had no memory of at all. Then Nichole had kept him unconscious for another two full days after he woke up screaming that first time. Since then, he had spent another three days in the med center, growing stronger. His muscle and skin had been regenerated and he was finally moved out of the Absurdly Critical Care Unit to a standard recovery room where he could rest somewhat more comfortably.

Nichole, however, looked exhausted. When he saw her that sixth night, he told her that she should go home and get some rest before she needed to be given a room here as well. She ignored his advice until Ratchet reminded her that Doctor Phage would probably be the one taking care of her. _That_ changed her mind very quickly... It was not as if Minister Phage was incompetent; far from it! He was a rather talented doctor in his own right. But the two physicians had a long standing rivalry and she would do anything to avoid admitting to Phage that she needed help!

Meanwhile, Ratchet had grown stronger and his skin and muscles had been rebuilt. He looked under the thermal blanket and peeked down at his body, cringing slightly in disgust. The lombax was not wearing any clothes, but that was to be expected given the scanning bed he was lying on. What bothered Ratchet was the fact that he was also completely shaved; other than his forearms, his hands, his shins and feet, there was not a trace of fur on the entire front of his body. Nichole explained that the acid had destroyed his skin, and she had been forced to regenerate it. She went on to say that his boots and gloves protected the fur on his extremities, that his back and tail had not been damaged by the acid, but that there was nothing more she could do except let the rest of his fur grow back naturally. Ratchet shuddered, rubbing his hand over his completely smooth chest, his sense of touch distorted and hypersensitive. He could see his stripe patterns and the remaining traces of some surface scarring. But without his fur, the lombax looked... scrawny. And it would take weeks to grow back properly. How could furless species live like this? What would Talwyn think?

What also bothered Ratchet (but not nearly as much) was that fact that his exposed flesh was practically covered in ink. While he could not even begin to imagine how it got started, there was an unusually eccentric tradition among lombaxes: when one of them was seriously injured, to the point of requiring shaving and sedation, his or her family and friends would write 'get well' wishes and sign the exposed skin with a perma-ink stylus. Ratchet had happily signed his name (along with a semi-obscene suggestive comment) after Nicholas and Nichole shaved and signed Petrov's stomach, explaining the tradition to him last month. But now, Ratchet had awakened from his sedation to find himself at the other end of the stylus...

Ratchet's chest, arms and legs were covered with signatures. Clank, Zephyr, Cronk, Nichole, Nicholas (Nichole must have signed for him), Reg, Melody, Justin and Crystal (it looked like Reg signed for the kits), Spiff (in somewhat small print, neatly aligned with one of his stripes), Rich, Tim, Wallace Refractor and the _entire_ Region Nine Deputy Squad, Sasha, Al, Winston and his son Theodore, Jacek, Ember Caliber, at least two dozen people from both The Academy and the ACLR... There were too many to count. Petrov had not only signed (in rather huge symbols), but had drawn an arrow and commented rather explicitly about his shaved groin and reproductive organs. Talwyn had signed too, on the inside of his right thigh, adding her own comment even more explicit than Petrov's. On the inside of his left thigh was another signature - Darla Gratch, the current news anchor for GNN. This one really bothered Ratchet at first, having the newswoman's signature so close to so private an area, until he realized it must be a forgery; one of his friends had probably signed her name as a joke. It was very well done, though; the only way he could tell was that Darla normally drew a star next to the letter T in her name, while the signature on his leg had a smiley face instead.

Ratchet looked down at himself under the blankets and sighed. The perma-ink would fade in about two weeks. The fur would start growing back in about a week, first as a really annoying stubble, finally becoming manageable after about three weeks. It would take four full weeks for the fur to be back to normal. But the lombax knew that if all he lost from the encounter with Courtney Gears was a bit of fur, he should count himself lucky. The combination of the armor she had and his arrogance in going to meet her, without armor and only Talwyn and Clank as backup, was a mistake that very nearly cost him his life! Ratchet recognized his good fortune for what it was, and hoped that Captain Waterman would be able to get Pete to renounce piracy and join the crew of The Wrench. The perpetually inebriated pirate deserved it, and he and Waterman would probably be a perfect match.

Captain Waterman had sent his regards and noted that he had two openings on The Wrench. The first was to replace Sigma 587 Gamma 3 on the data and encryption station. Waterman let him know that an invitation was about to be sent to Randall Bitstream, offering him the station. The second opening was for Alpha 1 dash 306. Alph was moving over to Sebastian Kinetic's translight station, while Sebastian was taking over the lead engineering role from Nicholas. Nick, it seemed, had requested a temporary leave of absence while he worked to enhance and expand the Apogee Station.

This news came as a complete surprised and shocked both Nichole and Petrov. But Nichole had not forgotten about Ratchet's (somewhat medicated) mention of The Wrench and her personnel. Under her and her father's direct, and rather forceful, cross examination, Ratchet finally cracked, asking them, "Have you ever seen Nicholas in the same room with Jasmine Parallax?"

Both Petrov and Nichole shook their heads.

"They get along, uh, real well," Ratchet offered. When Petrov and Nichole stared at him without comprehending, he asked quietly, "Petrov, I know yer eyes run in the family. What does it mean when they turn completely yellow?"

Petrov and Nichole suddenly gasped. They stared at each other for a moment, and then back at Ratchet. Both of them had perked ears and their eyes had drifted lighter, both getting a bit of a sunny color in them as well, either sunlight through green leaves for Nichole or a sunny blue sky for Petrov. "No..." Petrov whispered very quietly, not believing what he heard as a smile spread across his muzzle.

Ratchet merely nodded.

The three of them laughed and joked and told stories of Nick's exploits for the next few hours. But all of them agreed not to mention it to anyone else, out of respect.

Sasha and Al had stopped by the previous day. They were both somewhat apologetic and sorry that Ratchet ended up here, but they were also both very glad to see him. Ratchet agreed, told them that he was glad to see them, too, and that they had to get together more often, especially now that Ratchet no longer had to wear a tracer and could move around (escorted) a bit more freely. Among other things, Al told him that he had met with Petrov and that with all the business he was getting for the neural matrix caps, he was seriously considering setting up a shop on New Fastoon. The engineer asked Ratchet for his advice and for the lombax to try and scout out a good location for him.

Reg, Melody, Justin and Crystal also visited. Even Ratchet had to admit that Crystal really looked cute, curled up in a little ball of fur lying in her red basket, snoring with a light, buzzing purr. Justin was a little scared seeing Ratchet's shaved face (Ratchet was very careful to keep the blanket pulled over himself very tightly so that Justin would not see the scars and writing on his exposed chest and arms) but Ratchet was able to convince the kit that he was okay. After a while, Justin relaxed and proudly told Ratchet that he now had five bolts saved. Ratchet nodded very seriously, praised Justin's efforts and reminded him that his wrench was safely put away for when he was ready. Reg and Melody were rather somber when they thanked Ratchet; they knew that he had put himself into serious danger to protect Justin and Crystal, and even if the kits did not realize it, they did. Ratchet tried to make light of it, saying that they would do the same thing, and then changed the subject, reminded them both that he was still treating them to a trip to Saphria. Both Reg's and Melody's ears perked with that; Reg hung his head and smiled a little embarrassed as Mel turned to her mate, started rubbing the fur of his chest through his open vest and said in a rather suggestive voice, "I know. I'm looking forward to it!"

But now, lying alone in the quiet sunlight of morning, Ratchet was looking forward to nothing more than going home with Talwyn and Clank. From what Nichole had told him, he could return to his normal activities as long as he promised to go easy on the workout routines for at least two weeks, building up the difficulty slowly until he got used to his new muscles, and if he promised (yet again) to try not to do anything stupid. Ratchet laughed, gave his customary reply of "I'll try," and left it at that.

Having little else to do, the lombax studied the infuser to his right. It was still hooked up to a cuff around his shaved right arm. There were only three cylinders hanging from it now: the pale green fluid of a nutritional solution, the glowing blue of highly concentrated nanotech and the electric blue of the sleep formula. Ratchet wasn't sure why Nichole left that one there - possibly as a threat, possibly as a guarantee of his good behavior. The lombax adjusted the cuff around his right arm, laid back against the soft transparent plastic cushions and reached for the primitive remote control with his left hand. He activated the holovid and turned to a news frequency. Normally, he would have used his neural matrix to do this kind of thing, but all of his surviving gear (his matrix and manifestor only, his gloves and boots had been irreparably damaged by the acid along with his clothing) was with Talwyn. He just hoped that she remembered to bring him some clothes when she and Clank stopped by to pick him up.

The news broadcast featured a GNN uplink, relayed from the Apogee Station in Polaris. Darla Gratch's unshakable presentation flowed from the screen. "And in a follow-up to the recent viral attack, Courtney Gears, one time diva and songwriter beloved by billions across the galaxy, was sentenced today by the Ultimate Court of Solana. Gears had been charged with one hundred eighty counts of sentience override, thirteen counts of wrongful robotic termination and one count of organic attempted murder. The recommended penalty for these charges are fifty years per count of override, one hundred years per count of wrongful termination and two years per count of attempted murder. Based on the recommended sentence of 10,302 years, Ms. Gears' attorney, Slick Dipstick, entered a plea bargain to reduce the sentence to five years house arrest. Dipstick, speaking on behalf of his client, said that Ms. Gears would use that time to undergo extensive physical reconstruction and rehab. In a carefully orchestrated media bite, Ms. Gears was seen, her face and body obscured by a stunning crimson mesh, carefully waving her right arm for the cameras. She is quoted as saying 'Watch for me on the upcoming season of Galactic Idol, where I'll resume my role as a judge, selecting the best and brightest of the talent this galaxy has to offer.' Dipstick has confirmed that Ms. Gears will be allowed to resume her career under the careful supervis..."

The holovid screen shut down. Ratchet turned and saw Talwyn, Clank and Nichole standing in the doorway. Ratchet sat up in bed and grinned at them. "Hey!" he said.

"At least she got what she deserves," Talwyn said.

"Yeah," Ratchet replied, looking at the blank holovid screen. "I know. Still..."

"Do you think she'll be back, Ratchet?" Nichole asked as she disconnected the infuser and removed the transdermal cuff from Ratchet's arm.

The lombax nodded. "Probably."

Clank nodded as well. "At least we will have time to properly prepare for her return."

"Yeah, Clank," Ratchet said. "And this time, we'll know what she's capable of." The room seemed strangely cool to the lombax and he shivered slightly. He pulled the blanket over his exposed chest. Looking at Talwyn, he said, "I hope ya remembered t' bring my manifestor. And some clothes..."

Talwyn nodded, holding up a brand new pair of gloves, a manifestor crystal visible on the right outer wrist and Ratchet's neural matrix. She brought them to the bed and handed them to Ratchet. "I hope the gloves are the right size," she said. "I went by what was left of the label, but those were pretty well broken in."

Ratchet slipped the gloves on. They were a slightly tight fit, especially around his hands and fingers, but they would stretch, getting more comfortable and form fitting as he wore them. The cuffs were extremely loose, but they were above the fur line on his forearms so he had to expect that. Ratchet then placed the neural matrix on his head. His eyes unfocused briefly and the manifestor crystal began to pulse in time with his heart rhythm. Ratchet looked through the contents and saw that everything was still in place, except for his incinerator.

"What happened t' the incinerator?" Ratchet asked, looking at Clank. "Did I drop it when I slammed inta the wall?"

"Yes, Ratchet," Clank answered. "It fell beyond the edge of the pedway and down below the baseline of the city. I do not know if it ever reached the surface of Kerwan, or if it was destroyed before impact."

Ratchet shook his head. "Doesn't matter," he said. "I can always get another one." He looked at Clank. "Thanks fer savin' my tail. Again! If it wasn't fer you, I'd probably still be falling..."

"You are welcome, Ratchet," Clank said.

"Why don't you get dressed, Ratchet," Nichole recommended. "You'll feel a lot better afterward."

Ratchet nodded, then looked at his friends. "Uh, could ya turn around 'r somethin'?"

Talwyn looked at him strangely. "Ratchet," she said, "we've been bonded for over a year now..."

"I know," Ratchet said. "It's just... Without my fur, I feel..."

Talwyn gave him one of _those_ looks. "You've seen me without fur lots of times..."

"That's different..." Ratchet said weakly.

Nichole put an end to the debate. "No, Ratchet," she said firmly, shaking her head. "You haven't been out of bed since they brought you in here. I want to see how you do, and they'll help me catch you if you lose your balance."

"Fine," Ratchet said, a little grumpily. He searched through his manifestor and picked out a set of jeans and a long sleeved shirt, placing them on the edge of the bed. He also manifested a pair of boots. When everything was laid out, he pulled the cover off and stood. The room was really cold!

"You might want to put on some shorts," Nichole said. "Your skin's gonna be really sensitive until your fur grows back."

Ratchet shook his head and grumbled a bit, but manifested his sleeping shorts anyway. As he pulled them on, Nichole could not help herself. "Aww... Look at the cute little rocket ships..." Talwyn and Clank burst out laughing.

Ratchet merely shook his head and pulled the garment on, threading his tail carefully through the appropriate opening. At least his tail fur and tuft was intact. As he pulled on the left leg of his jeans, being careful because his balance did feel a little weird, he asked his friends, "By the way, who signed Darla's name?"

The three of them looked at each other innocently. "Darla Gratch," Talwyn said finally.

Ratchet pulled on the right leg of his jeans and secured the fastener. "Yeah, right," he said. He looked directly at Clank's optics. "Clank, who signed it?"

Clank met his gaze and said, "Darla Gratch."

Ratchet looked up at Clank's antenna. There was no telltale glow that he was bluffing. Suddenly, Ratchet was not as sure of himself as he had been previously. Maybe Darla did sign him... The lombax closed his eyes and shook his head at the possibility. It didn't matter anyway, he thought. And there wasn't anything he could do about it now. The lombax pulled the shirt over his head and ears, being careful not to get them caught in the fabric. Once his jeans and shirt were on, Ratchet very carefully adjusted the autoclimate systems of both, raising the programmed steady state temperature slightly to account for the loss of his fur. The autoclimate systems responded quickly, providing a bit of extra heat. Ratchet sighed slightly; he was warm for the first time in days, and Nichole was right - he felt a lot better now.

Ratchet sat on the bed and pulled on his boots.

"So, what's the first thing you're going to do?" Nichole asked.

Ratchet looked at Talwyn, Clank and Nichole in turn. He broke into a small smile. "I don't know 'bout you, but I'm dyin' for some sludge!"

* * *


	17. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Saphria's Secret**

Ratchet sat on the midnight blue sand far from the water's edge, staring out over the ocean. The sun was still high in the afternoon sky and warmed the gentle air currents that swirled around him. The freshwater waves crashed loudly along the shoreline, pounding on the sand and creating a slight foam along the tidal boundary. The lombax sniffed the air and closed his eyes, letting the sun beat down on his upturned face and chest. Mmmm...

Ratchet and Talwyn had left for Sapria the day after his release from the med center. The trip was uneventful. Aphelion had been unusually quiet as they flew, somewhat nervous and relieved at the same time about Ratchet's health. But that did not stop her from reminding them once again of their promise not to do anything embarrassing on their return flight. Once they landed, Aphelion went to sleep in one of the hangers, and Ratchet and Talwyn checked in. Surprisingly, they were assigned to the same island where they had spent their neobond trip; Ratchet was not sure if it was a coincidence or not, but he was rather grateful for that small touch. The old cabana, the ancient thorntree with its brilliant crimson spikes, all of it combined to give a sense of welcome that extended beyond mere words. Ratchet sighed and let the tensions of his recent adventures drain away.

The lombax was barefoot and barehanded, his neural matrix and manifestor stowed into the secure storage locker. He was still dressed in his jeans, shorts and long sleeve shirt though, hiding his lack of fur and the inky signatures all over his body. He heard the sound of footsteps behind him and caught the subtly exotic and spicy scent of Talwyn's skin. It had not taken her very long at all to shed her clothing in the afternoon sun. Maybe it was natural for furless species to be so naked like this, but it still felt awkward for the lombax. Exposed fur he could deal with...

"Happy anniversary, Ratchet," Talwyn said, kissing him on the side of the muzzle. It felt very strange to the lombax - his skin was extremely sensitive to the touch.

"Happy anniversary, Talwyn," he said, kissing her in return. She was the same as always and the way she looked reminded him of the first time they met, when he invaded her station years ago.

Talwyn looked him over. "I hope you're not intending to wear that the _whole_ time we're here," she said.

Ratchet chuckled. He knew exactly what she meant. Very carefully, he removed the shirt he had been wearing. The breeze was warm and gentle, and while his bare chest and arms felt strange, the breeze stirred the fur on his back and made him relax even more. He tossed the shirt near the corner post of the cabana, just underneath the red call button.

"Come on," Talwyn said impatiently. "We both know there's no one around for kilocubits."

Ratchet looked into her warm, affectionate eyes. The lombax nodded, stood and removed his jeans, tossing them on top of the shirt. Finally, he removed his shorts. Throwing them in the general direction of the rest of his attire (being lighter, they did not travel quite as far), Ratchet turned towards her.

Talwyn looked him over very carefully and nodded. "That's better," she said, sitting down on the sand with her eyes on the waves and inviting Ratchet to sit next to her. Ratchet sat down, feeling the breeze play along the boundary of fur and shaved skin. It was a very strange sensation, but pleasant in its own way.

"Isn't it wonderful?" Talwyn asked, putting her left arm around Ratchet's back.

"Yes, it is," he answered very quietly. He smiled. "I don' know what it is, but this place... There's just somethin' about it..."

"I know," Talwyn said. She began rubbing the fur on Ratchet's back. The lombax stretched, enjoying the feeling and also the slow building of a static electricity sensation in his fur. Talwyn turned to him and gently nipped Ratchet on his shoulder. "It's just so perfect," she said as she reached around and touched his chest with her bare hand.

Ratchet startled when he felt her hand touch his skin. The static electric sensation died instantly, leaving him with a hollow feeling and a deep sense that something was very wrong. He had not felt this way since... "Oh, no..." he muttered.

Talwyn saw the look on his face change and heard his comment. "What?"

"The fur! Lombax instincts! Petrov told me that touch was critical..."

"What's Petrov got to do with us?" she asked. Talwyn turned to face him, her frustration clearly visible on her face.

"It's not him," Ratchet tried to explain. "It's me. Fur is very important to a lombax. It's part of our instincts. When you touched my chest... everything..." He searched for words. Finally he hung his head low. "Everything... stopped. I want to... But..." His ears and tail were very low and he could not meet her eyes. "I'm sorry, Talwyn."

Talwyn's frustration increased, but was also joined by a significant amount of pity. It was obvious to her that Ratchet meant every word he said. But this was their anniversary trip, and she was not about to give up that easily.

Talwyn stood and offered her hand to Ratchet. "Come on," she said. "Follow me."

Ratchet looked up at her, tears in his eyes. He took her hand and followed her to the corner post of the cabana. Talwyn picked up the shorts from where they did not reach the pile and dropped them on top of Ratchet's other clothing. She looked at the lombax, fresh perma-ink signatures all over his rather wiry body, chuckled slightly at the sight and pressed the red button on the call box. Very carefully, she spoke into the microphone, "Do you have anything that grows back lombax fur?"

"You're kidding, right?" Ratchet asked, breaking into a sad smile. "You don't really think that..."

There was a flash of a teleporter inside the cabana. On the large slab of blue stone that acted as a teleporter pad, a small, high round table, over half Ratchet's height but barely half a cubit in diameter, had suddenly materialized. There was a thin metallic tube in the center of the table, along with a folded slip of paper.

Talwyn took the note and Ratchet took the tube. It was a hollow container with an airtight stopper on one end. Ratchet unsealed the stopper, looked inside and poured the contents into his right hand. It was a control stick, very similar in style to the manual targeting stick in Aphelion. It was form fit with indentations for his fingers and a large red button on top. The button had a small hole in the center, and if Ratchet held it at just the right angle to the sun, he could detect a metallic glint inside.

"'Exact genetic sample required,'" Talwyn read in a somewhat confused voice, showing the note to Ratchet. It was printed with very crisp sapphire blue lombax characters, in a raised ink that spoke of high quality output facilities. "That's it. That's all it says."

Looking at the control stick, the directions sounded perfectly clear to the lombax. He held the control stick as he normally would, placed his bare thumb carefully on the button, braced himself and pressed down. There was a very temporary jabbing sensation in the bottom of his thumb. Releasing the button, he looked inside the hole again. There was a tiny crimson gleam there instead of the metallic glint he noticed before. Ratchet looked at the bottom of his thumb and saw the telltale blue shimmer of nanotech healing the small puncture. He shrugged, slipped the control stick back into the tube and resealed it. Ratchet placed it on the table and pressed the button. "Okay..." he said.

There was a teleporter flash and the table vanished. "Now what?" Talwyn said.

"I dunno," Ratchet replied.

A few seconds later, another teleport flash. The same table, or one almost exactly like it, reappeared. This time, it held a small jar and another folded note. As before, Ratchet took the jar while Talwyn read the note. "'Apply to skin. May cause itching.' Lovely..."

"It sounds too easy," Ratchet said, unscrewing the tight lid of the jar. Inside was a white opalescent salve that seemed to sparkle in direct sunlight. "But it's worth a try." Ratchet took a tiny dab of the cream on his fingers and touched it to his chest.

Talwyn was watching him and saw Ratchet shiver and grimace. "What now?" Talwyn asked, her impatience getting the better of her.

Ratchet smiled sheepishly and looked up at her, a little embarrassed. "It's cold," he quietly admitted.

Talwyn shook her head and moved toward him. "Hero of the galaxy," she muttered, dipping her fingers deeply into the jar. "Minster to the Lombax people, 'n he can't even handle a little lotion..." She rubbed the salve between her palms, her touch raising it to her own body temperature. "Come here, you big baby!"

She began applying the salve to the exposed skin on his chest. By warming it ahead of time, Ratchet did not even notice the temperature of the salve at all. He did, however, notice Talwyn spreading it on him. The lombax blushed deeply, something that was painfully obvious without his fur, and gave a really embarrassed chuckled. "Uh, aren't you worried that you'll grow fur?"

Talwyn had to laugh. Ratchet's blushing made the picture just too silly for her and it wiped away all her frustration and impatience. "Somehow, Ratchet," she answered, "I don't think so. If they needed an 'exact genetic sample', I doubt it'll work on me."

Talwyn carefully applied the creamy ointment to all of Ratchet's exposed skin. Many of the areas were extremely easy, but Ratchet's embarrassment when she applied it to his groin and reproductive organs made her burst out laughing again. Finally, when every exposed centicubit of skin was covered, Talwyn looked into the jar. There was only a trace left: the remains along the sides and a very small bit on the bottom. Talwyn grinned. She looked into Ratchet's eyes and said, "Trust me..."

Ratchet nodded and she reached around grabbing his tail. His eyes widen in shock as he watched her take his tail, and holding it almost as a paintbrush, stuffed the tuft into the jar, twisting the vessel around to get every last trace of the salve out. She handed the cleaned jar back to Ratchet and carefully massaged the cream into the tuft, making sure to get it all the way to the tail tip. "You always said that a lombax can never have too big a tuft..."

Ratchet laughed. It was sad, but true: lombaxes were somewhat vain about their fur, but most especially the tail tuft. It was not something that was ever really talked about, but the concept of 'tuft envy' was a known concept and readily searchable on the hyperband.

"Thank you, Talwyn," Ratchet said. "I really appreciate it." He put the jar and lid back on the teleport pad and pressed the button. There was a flash and the table vanished.

"I just hope it works," Talwyn said. "I'm not in the mood to wait for a month or so for your fur to grow back."

"Me too," he said. "I'm just not use t' havin'..."

Ratchet stopped mid-sentence and his expression changed. "Now what?" Talwyn asked.

Ratchet let out a small yelp and ran as fast as he could toward the waterline, Talwyn chasing after him alarmed. "What is it?"

Ratchet did not stop, but ran at top speed down the beach, into the water and further. He waded into the ocean until just his head and ears were visible above the water. His face was twisted into a horrible grimace and he continued to yelp, almost howling in agony.

"What?" Talwyn shouted, wading out towards him.

Ratchet shook his head. The water around him churned with activity. "I'm okay," he said, breathlessly. "Stay where you are."

Talwyn stopped and waited, standing up to her knees in the ocean water. "What is it?" she asked again in a more calm voice. Seeing Ratchet rational immediately put her at ease.

"'May cause itching,'" the lombax quoted, growling through his clenched jaw. He grimaced again. "No kidding!"

Talwyn suddenly realized why the water around Ratchet was churning with activity: the lombax was scratching every part of his skin as hard as he could under the water, trying to get the salve off. "No Ratchet! Leave it on!"

Ratchet shook his head and the water continued to churn. "Not a chance," he said, continuing to scratch at himself.

Mercifully, the sensation and activity passed after about a minute. It seemed like an eon to the lombax, but that was merely subjective time. Finally, Ratchet sighed, panting, exhausted by his efforts. Talwyn watched him from the shore. "Are you okay?" she asked. "Do you need help?"

Ratchet shook his head, said, "No, I'm okay," and very slowly waded back to land. As he slowly emerged from the water, it was very obvious to Talwyn that the slave worked. "Ratchet," she called out. "Look at yourself!"

The lombax's gaze dropped to his chest. His fur had completely grown back! Not only was it back to its normal length, but it seemed full and healthy, with a nice shine to it. Granted, it was also completely soaked through at the moment, and the musky scent of wet lombax hung heavily in the breeze, but that was easy to fix.

Ratchet climbed out of the water, embraced Talwyn in his arms and kissed her. Before she could react, though, he broke off and went into the cabana. After about three minutes he returned, his fur dried by the airblast system in their small sanitation station. It was still matted and unruly, not having been brushed out, but it was there and that was the important thing. He walked over to Talwyn, took her into his arms and kissed her again. She wrapped her arms around his back, rubbing his fur. The lombax felt that static feeling building once more.

She pulled away from him slightly. Laughing, she ran her fingers through the fur on his chest. "It's thicker..." she commented. Ratchet laughed in reply. Talwyn looked into his eyes. "Did you really have to fluff it, though?" she asked somewhat mockingly.

Ratchet looked at her and mumbled quietly, "It wasn't that. Wet fur must be real cold against yer skin."

Talwyn laughed. He was being serious! It was a nice thought, but... "I'm used to it," she said, stroking his chest and rubbing his fur roughly against the grain. Ratchet let out a low, moaning purr, a numbness filling his mind and the static filling his fur. Talwyn reached around behind him and grabbed his tail. "Check it out, Ratchet," she said, holding his tail out for him to see. The tuft had blossomed to nearly twice its original length; it looked like a tangled orange shrub.

Ratchet nodded. The scent of Talwyn's exotic spicy skin was calling to him too deeply for words. He tightened his embrace, pulling her towards him and kissing her again; his jaws opening and sliding down to taste her soft neck...

* * *

Three of Saphria's moons shone full in the midnight sky, casting sharp shadows along the sandy beach. The fourth moon was merely a crescent, hanging low near the barely discernable horizon where the ocean waters reflected back its thin sliver. The dark blue sands glinted starlike, with mineral traces catching the light of the moons and creating a stellar display almost as spectacular as the one overhead. A light breeze filled the warm night, a soft whisper of air currents stirring fur and caressing skin alike.

Ratchet and Talwyn sat side by side looking out over the ocean. Ratchet's right arm was wrapped around Talwyn's shoulders, and her left was around his. Ratchet's head was tilted slightly, leaning against Talwyn as they stared into the distance.

"This place is wonderful," Talwyn said, her voice hushed by the majesty of the scene before her.

"Yeah," Ratchet replied quietly, a smile on his muzzle.

He turned his head slightly to kiss Talwyn's shoulder, then returned his eyes to the horizon. The lombax sighed happily. Talwyn moved her left arm from Ratchet's shoulders and scratched the fur at the base of his left ear. The lombax's head twitched reflexively and his right ear lightly brushed against Talwyn's neck, tickling her. They both chuckled.

After a timeless while, Talwyn sighed softly and quietly whispered, "Thank you."

Ratchet chuckled. "You're welcome."

"I wasn't talking to you," Talwyn laughed.

Ratchet's eyes opened a little wider. There was no one else around for kilocubits and they both knew it. He realized it was a setup; he tried not to ask, but after about a minute his curiosity finally got the best of him (as she knew it would). "Okay, I'll ask. Who?"

"Whoever runs this place," she said. Turning to Ratchet, her eyes softly reflecting the moonlight, she said, "It's nice of whoever lives here to share it with us like this."

"And to take care of us too," Ratchet said, sitting up in a more attentive posture. A strange thought struck him. "And not just us; lots of lombaxes..."

Talwyn sat up also. This _was_ rather strange. "Reg told me that after The Flight, the LCC negotiated some kind of treaty, but said they never saw anyone here; it was all done through the same call system and notes..."

A mild gust stirred Ratchet's fur. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes. It just felt soooo good.

Talwyn smiled at Ratchet's reaction. She settled back in the sand. "I just wish I could thank them in person."

Ratchet's eyes snapped open, and his ears suddenly perked. Why not? He smiled at Talwyn, stood and offered his hand to help her up.

"Where're you going?" she asked.

"Why don't we thank them?" he said, nodding in the direction of the cabana and the call button. "It's worth a shot."

Talwyn thought about it for a second, said "Why not?" and accepted Ratchet's offered hand, climbing to her feet as well.

They walked along the sandy beach together, hand in hand, until they came to the cabana. Standing next to the call button (and Ratchet's pile of forgotten clothing), Talwyn pressed the button. "Hi," she said, somewhat self-consciously. "We just wanted to thank whoever's in charge. This place is wonderful and we're having a great time. Thank you."

She let go of the call button. There was a flash of a teleport from inside the cabana. The familiar high round table was back. The only item on its polished white surface was another note. Ratchet took it and showed it to Talwyn. "You're welcome," it read in its slightly raised, formal dark blue lombax lettering. But there was an addition - in the bottom right corner of the note, a smiley face had been hand drawn in common blue ink. The doodle had a pair of big, triangular ears on either side and a tail descending from it. Ratchet and Talwyn both grinned at the sight of it.

Ratchet was not going to give in so easily. He pressed the call button again. "Sorry t' bother ya, but we really mean it. We jus' wanna thank you. In person." The lombax glanced at his own and Talwyn's naked forms. "We're unarmed. Promise!"

Ratchet let go of the button, but Talwyn immediately pressed it again. "Please?"

Talwyn released the button. After nearly ten seconds, there was another flash of the teleporter. Again, a note card; but this one was folded like a tent on the tabletop, with the lombax printing plainly visible. It had just one word on it: "Follow." Ratchet lifted the card and revealed a tiny centicubit ornamental lantern hidden underneath, similar to the kind Nicholas used in his decorative starscapes. As they watched, the lantern floated to eye level for Ratchet and Talwyn and slowly drifted out the front opening of the cabana.

Ratchet and Talwyn followed the slowly drifting lantern. It led them passed the ancient thorntree and its spectacular crimson thorns, down towards the beach. About two cubits from the water, it changed direction, moving to their left along the shoreline towards a series of rock formations. Ratchet had investigated these the last time he was on Saphria; there were a few very shallow caves, but nothing significant. They were really fun to climb, though.

Before it reached the caves, however, the lantern stopped. When Ratchet and Talwyn were close enough that Ratchet could have reached out and touched it, the lantern flashed once, then slowly circled around the couple. As it circled, it gradually lost altitude, spiraling down toward the ground, until it settled in the sand in front of them.

"I can take a hint," Ratchet mumbled, and sat down on the sand next to the lantern. Talwyn did so also.

After they had sat down, the lantern flashed once more, then flared briefly with an intense blue light before going out completely. In the distance, an eddying breeze stirred, picking up a trace of the dark blue sand, lifting it into the air and drawing their attention. As they watched, a figure slowly faded into existence.

The stranger was approximately eight centicubits taller than Ratchet. He was naked also, but he was covered with a soft fur: the very light blue of clouds on a sunny day around his chest, the deeper blue of clear tropical waters over most of his body, with the dark sapphire color of the sand beneath them in the stripes on his arms, legs and torso, around his armpits, groin and ringing his tail. There was a large tuft of sapphire fur at his tail tip, and his large, somewhat triangular ears also had stripes. He had rather sizeable triangular feet with three toes on each foot. His muzzle was rounded and shaped similar to Ratchet's, but was a little longer. His eyes were deep and tranquil, blue as a gemstone, and shone with both ageless wisdom and kitlike joy.

"Hi." The stranger's voice was clear and strong, a tiny bit higher in tone than Ratchet's, but not by very much. He waved slightly with his right hand.

Ratchet's jaw dropped open. "A lombax?!?" he blurted out, completely surprised.

"Yeah," the newcomer said in an easy, comfortable tone. "Uh, not quite what you were expecting, huh?"

Talwyn stared at the lombax in front of her, also shocked. "Not quite," she admitted quietly.

"A _blue_ lombax?" Ratchet was still having trouble getting over the concept.

The blue lombax chuckled slightly, looked at Talwyn and with a smile on his face said, "I take it you're the smart one?"

Ratchet growled slightly, then immediately closed his eyes and took a really deep breath, trying to regain his composure. It wasn't the first time he heard that joke.

"Oh, I'm just kidding around. Sorry, Ratchet. I didn't really mean it." There was another slight gust and Ratchet felt the breeze in his fur again. For some reason, it was hard to stay angry on Saphria - the lombax felt his cares melting away with the touch of the wind and he opened his eyes again, grinning back.

"I'm Nathaniel, by the way. I run this place." The blue lombax gestured at the sand in front of them. "May I...?"

"Oh, go ahead," Talwyn said quickly.

Nathaniel sat cross legged on the sand in front of them.

"I'm Ratch..."

"Hi, Ratchet," Nathaniel interrupted. "Talwyn. It's nice to actually meet you, face to face. I don't do this normally, but you did say 'please'."

"We just wanted to thank you," Talwyn said. She looked around. "You run this place? This island?"

"You're welcome," he replied. He had a casual attitude that reminded Ratchet of Nicholas, but that made even Nick seem high strung in comparison. "As for running ... this place, this island, this planet ... it really doesn't matter."

"Are you really a lombax?" Ratchet asked. Nathaniel grinned and Ratchet went on. "I mean, are you real? You show up outta thin air, you look kinda like me... Are we imagining you? Are you in a holodisguise 'r somethin'?"

Nathaniel chuckled even more. "I'm real," he said, poking Ratchet in the center of his chest, pushing the lombax back by a centicubit to prove it. "I'm not a hologram or your imagination. I'm a lombax just like you. Well, maybe not _exactly_ like you... Lombaxes of the Sun and Moon..."

Talwyn and Ratchet briefly looked at each other, then stared at Nathaniel, completely puzzled. Neither of them had ever heard of such a thing.

"A blue lombax..." Nathaniel prompted, hoping for a reaction. "Lombax of the Moon... No?"

They shook their heads. Nathaniel sighed slightly, stretched his back a bit and settled into the sand, as if he was expecting to be there for a while. "So much has been forgotten...

"Let me tell you a little story...

"Not many species know this, but the universe itself is a sentient being. And like all sentient beings, she was puzzled by the nature of reality and of her own existence. But being alone, she had no way to explore those questions, or anyone to discuss them with. So she decided that the best way to answer those questions was to experience them though others. She created millions of life forms, gave birth to a multitude of intelligent and sentient beings across countless worlds and dimensions. And as her greatest gift to each, she gave a part of her puzzle and her curiosity to find the answers.

"On one of these countless worlds, a planet bathed in both beauty and tranquility, she gave birth to two brothers - twins. Lombaxes. The elder brother had fur as golden as the midday sun, while the younger's fur was as blue as the moonlight among the stars. These twins, under the loving care of the universe that gave them life, grew strong and intelligent, nimble and quick, thoughtful and wise. And while they were twins, they were very different in their nature. The elder had a drive to explore, to seek and to find adventure outside their small world, while the younger was driven to contemplation, meditation and to study the realms within. But both shared their mother's gift - the questions of all existence and a burning curiosity to answer those questions.

"One day, the Lombax of the Sun said to his younger brother, 'I intend to use my mind and my hands to build a ship. It will take me to every corner of existence. I will touch the stars and learn their secrets. Come with me.'

"The Lombax of the Moon shook his head, saying, 'No, my brother. I must stay here. I will use my mind and my heart to ponder the nature of the universe. I will remain here and the mysteries of existence will unfold in front of me.'

"The Lombax of the Sun smiled sadly at his younger brother. 'I understand," he said, nodding. Placing his hand on his brother's shoulder, the golden lombax said, 'One day, I will return to you - I promise. We will tell each other all we have learned. Between us, we will find the answer to every question.

"The Lombax of the Moon nodded, smiling back at his brother. 'I will wait for you.' Walking over to a nearby thorntree, he snapped off a crimson spike. Sniffing it, he said, 'Take this with you, wherever you go. It will remind you of your promise. And when you return, I will be here. We will share all we have learned.'

"And so, the Lombax of the Sun built his ship and many other marvels of technology. He set out and touched the stars, learning their greatest secrets. And he took with him always the thorntree branch, transplanting it to every world, every dimension, every reality he visited, as a reminder of his brother that was waiting for him."

Nathaniel fell silent. Ratchet stared at the lombax in rapt wonder; he always loved a good story. "Wow," Ratchet muttered quietly. "That was great! Did the brother ever come back?"

Talwyn closed her eyes, shook her head slightly and poked Ratchet in the side of the ribs. He could be so dense sometimes.

"Ow!" Ratchet exclaimed, looking at Talwyn. "What?"

Talwyn gave him one of _those_ looks, and Ratchet fell silent.

If anything, this just amused Nathaniel even more. Laughing enthusiastically, he continued. "Well, Ratchet, some say that the Lombax of the Sun _did_ return to his homeworld as promised. And the Lombax of the Moon was there, waiting. Some say that, even now, they are slowly telling each other of their adventures, of all that they have learned and all that they have experienced." Nathaniel chuckled. He turned to Talwyn. "So, what do you think?"

"My father always thought that Fastoon was not the lombax homeworld," she said. "The conditions are too harsh for them to have evolved without technology. But he never knew where..."

"But why the big secret?" Ratchet asked. "Why not come back with us t' New Fastoon 'n tell 'em?"

"No, Ratchet," Nathaniel said. "Perhaps someday. But not yet. There are still many more questions out there; for both of us."

Ratchet nodded, somewhat sadly. "Yeah. Like what happened t' my father... Or t' Max Apogee... Or what sentience really is... Or... Or..." Ratchet glanced around. There were so many questions in his mind that he could not even grasp at one. Turning, he saw the thorntree in the distance. "Or how you get your thorntree to bloom like that. Mine _never_ get that red..."

Nathaniel started laughing. Hard. "Oh, Ratchet," he said. "You make me feel so young..."

That puzzled both Ratchet and Talwyn; the lombax in front of them did not look a day over twenty-five.

"If it makes you feel any better," Nathaniel continued, "you will have the answers to all of your questions one day. I can see it in your future." He paused slightly and then continued. "As for the thorntrees; take some of the sand home with you in a jar and sprinkle it around their roots. They'll really thank you for it."

Ratchet gave Nathaniel a really strange look. "What did you say about the future?"

Nathaniel shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ratchet. That's a question for another day." He chuckled to himself slightly. "Good night, Ratchet."

Ratchet was about to protest, and actually succeeding in saying the word, "But..." before his eyes closed and he toppled over. The lombax was snoring before he even hit the sand.

Talwyn looked at her mate carefully, examining him to make certain he was okay. Ratchet's snores as he lay on his side next to her confirmed that. The lombax stretched slightly, burrowed himself into the sand a little and began snoring even louder. Talwyn turned to Nathaniel, a number of questions on her mind as well. "So this is the lombax homeworld," she said eagerly.

Nathaniel merely nodded, grinning.

"Then why..." Talwyn stopped suddenly, her face taking on an extremely disappointed look. She groaned, then very quietly she muttered, "We're not gonna remember any of this when we wake up, are we?"

Nathanial casually said, "Nope." He chuckled. "But I promise I'll leave you a note about the sand for the thorntrees..."

The look of disappointment on Talwyn's face deepened. "That's just soooo not fair."

"Tough," Nathanial lightly laughed. "My planet, my rules."

"Fine..." Talwyn sulked.

There was an extremely loud snore from Ratchet that attracted Talwyn's attention. She looked over at him. Lombaxes looked so cute when they were asleep. She gently tickled the fur under his muzzle, and Ratchet reflexively snapped his jaws gently in his dream. Looking back to Nathaniel, Talwyn suddenly said, "I know it's futile, but... one more question. Why a vacation planet?"

Nathanial nodded to Ratchet, sleeping in the sand. "Can you think of anything in the entire universe that the lombax race needs more desperately than a place where they can put aside all of their technology and all of their restless wanderings and be at peace... If only for a little while..."

Talwyn stared at Ratchet, lying next to her. Running her fingers through the fur at the base of his ears (and seeing him twitch involuntarily), Talwyn was struck again by how cute he looked. Not just cute - peaceful. Content.

Talwyn looked up at Nathaniel and smiled, shaking her head. "No," she whispered very quietly. "I can't." Then she lay down in the sand next to Ratchet, burrowing herself into a comfortable position. Without looking up, she said, "Good night, Nathaniel."

Nathanial smiled. "Good night, Talwyn."

She was asleep in seconds.

* * *

Nathaniel sat next to Ratchet and Talwyn, watching them sleep and reading their dreams. With a smile on his muzzle, he used the power of his mind to carefully lift Ratchet's limp arm and drape it across Talwyn's abdomen. Both of them stirred slightly; Ratchet pulled Talwyn closer to him and Talwyn nestled her face into the soft fur on Ratchet's chest. Nathaniel watched their minds as their dreams shifted, and they dreamt about each other.

The blue lombax nodded happily at the sleeping couple. After a while, Nathaniel stood and started slowly backing away towards the waterline. With a slow, sweeping gesture of his right hand, the telltale disturbed sand of his footprints and where he sat was wiped away. The blue lantern rose, flew directly at Nathaniel and he caught it in midair. As his large triangular bare feet passed the waterline and he waded into the ocean, Nathaniel began to fade away. In a quiet voice, filled with gentle emotion, he whispered, "Welcome home, brother," then vanished on the night air.

[end.]

* * *


	18. Microstory: Friends

**Disclaimers:**

Welcome to another single chapter microstory based on the rest of my Leonid Stories (Homecoming, Relativity, Instincts, Registration, Bait, Mortality and Override). I wrote the rough plot outline between 26 November and 28 November 2009, and wrote the first draft between 29 December 2009 and 13 March 2010. Yes, it took a while. I did my traditional proof reads and embellishment edits, but as everyone knows, even the pros never catch every typo. This story takes place approximately one month after Override, roughly two years and two months after the end of Tools of Destruction.

Recommended reading order: Homecoming; Relativity; Instincts; Registration; Bait; Mortality; Override; Friends.

Special thanks to Leaving You For Me and 007 Sims Man for getting me to think about many of the concepts in this story.

All standard disclaimers apply. As always I reserve the right to edit or tweak the text as I see fit and want to improve or correct it. So, for your entertainment... Enjoy!

* * * * *

**Friends**

Ratchet drew a shuddering breath and kept his eyes fixed to the ground. The lombax bounced slightly with every jarring motion, his booted feet dangling over a cubit and a half from the metal plated floor, his tail and ears drooped in defeat. The two giant war machines on either side of him held him suspended by his armpits, the somewhat sharp metal structure that made up their arms cutting into him uncomfortably as they carried him into a darkened chamber. And while Ratchet could hear slight traces of movement in front of him, he dared not lift his head now and show that he was actually conscious.

There was a sudden flare as illumination sconces along the circumference of the room activated in sequence, filling the small, windowless chamber with a bright white glare. Ratchet squinted his eyes, trying to focus. The ground beneath him was covered with various smears, splatters and stains; from the dull brownish, dingy blue and dark olive hues, it looked like the blood stains from many different species of organic life forms. It was not a comforting sight.

"I warned you not to follow me."

Ratchet looked up sharply at the familiar voice. "Clank!" he said eagerly. Staring into the light, the lombax was barely able to make out the silhouette of his friend standing in front of him. Ratchet's ears and tail perked slightly.

Clank lifted his right hand. In it, the robot held what looked like a device of some sort. Ratchet's ears and tail drooped again. He knew enough about weapons to recognize it: a Waster Pellet Projection Kit. The lombax's mind raced - the Waster PPK used a magnetic field to fire small projectiles at high velocity. While it was fairly ineffective against robotic life forms, it worked very well (and rather messily) against organics, hence the not-quite-so-funny-now nickname of Pretty Painful Killer...

The lombax's eyes softened a little, and while Ratchet's ears and tail were low, he hoped he could still get through to his friend. Shaking his head from side to side slightly, Ratchet whispered a single word, "no..."

"You are fired," Clank replied coldly. Ratchet tensed, closing his eyes and bracing his nerves for what must surely come next.

One heartbeat. Two... Three? Four???

"CUT!"

The room lighting changed to standard overhead fixtures. Ion Lemming, senior director for Holostar Studios, sprang up out of his hoverseat and ran out onto the set. The floating chair silently followed dutifully behind him, positioning itself so that Ion could sit back down at any moment, knocking people out of the way if necessary to remain ready.

"No! No! No! No!" he exclaimed. "Clank, baby, you're supposed to shoot him. We went over this already. You make the 'you're fired' joke, point and shoot. What happened?"

"I..." Clank began a little hesitantly. He looked up at Ratchet, dressed in his red with gold trim Jeeves costume, suspended off the floor by Zephyr on his right and Cronk on his left. Clank's eyes dimmed significantly. "I..."

"Are you functioning properly?" Maxwell Factor, the bot who played Maximillian in the Secret Agent Clank holovid series, asked quietly from his position behind Clank.

"Clank, are you okay?" Ratchet asked, the worry evident in his voice.

"I... I require a recess," was all Clank said, his eyes downcast.

That was all Ion needed to hear. "Thirty minutes, people!" he shouted. There was a sudden flurry of activity around the set. Maxwell removed the monocle from his optic, storing it carefully in a soft cloth before handing it to a prop specialist. Another prop specialist walked up to Clank and removed the Waster PPK from his hand.

Clank showed no sign that he even noticed the weapon was taken from him. He quickly moved out of the studio building to his private trailer parked on the lot next door. The door opened for him automatically and just as quickly closed behind him.

"You can put me down now, guys," Ratchet said to the warbots next to him.

"Oh. Yeah," Cronk said as they gently lowered the lombax to the ground.

"Sorry 'bout that, rookie," Zephyr added.

"We got kinda carried away," Cronk continued.

"Yes in-deedy," Zephyr said. "'Tain't often we gits a chance t' be in a real life holovid."

"Holostar Studios, too!"

"Multi trillion bolt budgets!"

"'N a fresh coat o' paint!" Both Zephyr and Cronk had been repainted black with silver trim, befitting with their roles as senior deathbots.

"I do look snazzy..."

"Pffff! Pity they couldn't fix yer faulty logic board while they was at it."

"At least my logic board still works, not like yer cranial restraining bolts..."

Ratchet was not paying any attention. As soon as his feet were on the ground, he walked quickly over to Clank's trailer. The lombax glanced up at the large golden star with Clank's name on it and touched it with his gloved hand. It glowed slightly and Ratchet could hear an audible alarm tone within the trailer. "Clank?" he called out. "Are you okay?" The security bolts were engaged, and while Clank had given him the combination, Ratchet did not want to just barge in. Ratchet touched the star again. "Clank, it's me. Please. Lemme in."

"Very well, Ratchet," Clank said with a rather despondent note in his voice. The security bolts disengaged and Ratchet entered, closing the door behind him.

The inside of Clank's trailer was far more opulent and roomy than the one Ratchet shared with Zephyr, Cronk, Douglas Jetstream (Ratchet's official watchbax from the LDM for this trip), Rigel (one of the Gadgetron COE's many nephews, playing Tau - Clank's gadget supplier) and the Spindle brothers (three Blargs, playing 'Thug 1", "Thug 2" and "Thug 3" in the credits). Ratchet glanced around at the posters and memorabilia from previous installments of the Secret Agent Clank holovid series, the numerous awards on the shelves and gifts from well wishers. Clank was facing away from him, staring at what seemed to be a rather boring bit of wall.

"Clank," Ratchet started very quietly. "What's wrong?"

It took a moment, but Clank turned to face the lombax. Clank's optics were still very dim. But what worried Ratchet more was the fact that the tiny robot appeared to be shaking slightly.

Ratchet moved towards Clank, dropped to one knee next to him, eye level with his friend. Ratchet put a hand on his shoulder.

Clank hesitated for a moment, but then moved forward and hugged Ratchet very tightly. Ratchet was extremely surprised by Clank's actions, but hugged the robot back, as hard as he could. "It's okay, Clank," Ratchet said soothingly. "I'm here."

After a few moments, Clank released the lombax, took a half-step backward and stared into his friend's eyes. The robot's optics were slightly brighter. "Oh, Ratchet," Clank began. "I should not have taken this script. I should not have agreed to do this holovid."

This was not what Ratchet was expecting. Given the severity of Clank's reaction, the lombax was really worried that there was something seriously wrong. Ratchet's ears perked in surprise, he shifted his weight back a little and said, "Why not?" He gestured with one hand around the trailer. "You've gotta great thing goin' here. Yer career. Yer fans. Why wouldn't ya wanna go fer it?"

"It is not acting that is the issue, Ratchet," Clank explained heavily. "It is this script specifically. In this scene, I am required to mercilessly terminate your character in order to prove myself to Maximillian and The Underground. To show that I have truly sold out to them."

Ratchet chuckled. "So? I don't care. With the Council, I'm not gonna be able t' play Jeeves anymore anyway. As it is, Rich's still got deputies followin' me. This way, I get t' retire - permanently." The lombax chuckled again. "And it'll be fun gettin' killed."

"That is exactly the point, Ratchet," Clank said, shaking his head sadly. "This is all too familiar." The robot sat down heavily and stared at the carpeted floor of the trailer.

"Familiar?" Ratchet asked, puzzled. He sat down across from Clank, keeping a very close watch on his optics and his antenna.

"Yes," Clank continued. The robot looked up and met Ratchet's eyes. "You must understand, Ratchet. When I was battling the Gears Virus, I was bombarded with override instructions and violent images, all of them focused on your termination."

"So what?" Ratchet replied, still a bit confused. "You seemed t' come right out of it."

"It was a significant struggle, Ratchet," Clank explained. The robot broke off eye contact and resumed staring at the floor. "A struggle made even more difficult by the fact that I was attached to your backpack at the time. I knew that one significant electrical surge, properly timed and in the correct location, would have been sufficient to immobilize your heart and terminate you."

Ratchet's eyes opened very wide. The lombax was shocked! He only knew about the virus after the fact; after Clank had already beaten it and regained control over his systems. He never realized exactly how much danger he had been in, or how close to death he really was. Worse - from his best friend! Ratchet never realized what Clank must have gone through!

"I knew that if I lost control for even a cycle," Clank continued, "you would not have survived. It required an immense amount of will, but it was that thought that allowed me to retain command over my critical functions." Clank looked up into Ratchet's eyes; they were slightly wild around the edges, but there was also a large amount of sympathy there. "That is how I was able to isolate my systems from the virus."

Clank stood. Ratchet looked up at his friend. "That is also why this scene is so difficult for me. It was the thought of causing you harm that allowed me to retain my own identity, even under the onslaught of the virus."

The last bit of fear in Ratchet's eyes faded away. The lombax reached up and put his hand on his friend's shoulder again. In a voice filled with both concern and sympathy, Ratchet said, "I'm sorry, Clank. I didn't know. You seemed t' come out of it so quick - I didn't think about it. I'm really sorry..."

"It is not your fault, Ratchet," Clank answered, his eyes brightening significantly. "If anything, it is our friendship that allowed me to retain my identity."

"And you saved my tail lots of times before that," Ratchet answered, chuckling slightly.

The two of them waited together in silence for a few long minutes, each thinking about the other, of their friendship and all they had been through. Finally, there was an alarm tone of someone touching the door star. "Five minutes, Mister Clank," one of the herd of associate assistants to the director called out.

"It's okay, Clank," Ratchet said, smiling. The lombax offered Clank his fist. "What'd'ya say we go out there 'n knock me dead?"

Clank chuckled. Nodding, he bumped his fist against Ratchet's. "As you wish."

* * * * *

Clank pulled back on the Waster PPK actuator, priming the mechanism. "You are fired," he said in a cold voice. Chuckling to himself over the pun, Clank raised the weapon and fired directly into Ratchet's heart.

The lombax braced himself when Clank said his line, but even prepared for it as he was and with the armor plate underneath his costume, Ratchet was still knocked backward slightly in Zephyr and Cronk's grip by the impact. The crimson dye pack hidden in his Jeeves uniform burst, spraying forward and splattering Clank with droplets of simulated blood. At the same time, a small explosive charge rigged in the back of his costume detonated, causing an 'exit wound' spray along the walls and floor behind him. The lombax knew from far too much experience that the amount of blood was really overdone, but as Ion kept saying, 'more blood, more downloads'. Ratchet couldn't deny it; both from his personal experience as a vid watcher and because Ion was the one that knew how to make and sell holovids... The lombax forced himself to slump limply in the warbots' grip and tried to take slow and shallow breaths, not moving as the dye dripped down his costume and his fur.

"I am very impressed, Agent Clank," Maxwell Factor said in a somewhat thick, well rehearsed accent as Maximillian. "I was uncertain if you would have the capacitors to do it." Maximilliam waved at Zephyr and Cronk and the two warbots dropped Ratchet.

The lombax fell the cubit and a half to the ground. That was actually the part that Ratchet had dreaded the most - trying to stay 'dead' while not hurting himself on the fall. Fortunately, he landed reasonably well. Keeping his eyes closed and his breathing very shallow, Ratchet listened as the scene continued.

Clank wiped the splattered droplets of 'blood' from his face. Looking around the room briefly, he turned to Ratchet and cleaned his hands on an unstained portion of the Jeeves costume. "You should know more accurately, Maximillian," Clank said.

Maxwell nodded. "Indeed, Agent Clank. I do ... now." He looked up and waved to the warbots. "Get that stinking piece of meat out of here!"

Cronk and Zephyr snapped to attention, bent down and grabbed Ratchet under the armpits again. They dragged the lombax across the floor and out the door, leaving a fresh crimson smear of blood behind. After the door closed behind them, Maxwell turned once again to Clank. "You have proven your loyalty, and earned your place at our council. Welcome to The Underground, Secret Agent Clank!"

* * * * *

"Dammit!" Ratchet swore loudly as he stood in the tiny bathroom of his shared trailer, his hand on the electrostatic cleaner for yet another cycle. "This stuff's worse than Caliber's dye rounds! It's not comin' out!" _ding_

After Ratchet's final scene was recorded, the lombax had quickly removed his rigged and dye soaked Jeeves costume, returning it to the special effects department. Dressed only in his shorts, the lombax made a dash to his shared trailer parked at the very back of the far end of the lot, with Doug, Zephyr and Cronk following close behind. The dye had penetrated through the cloth and seeped into Ratchet's fur; the lombax's chest and back were heavily stained with red coloring. In addition, the fake blood had dripped down his legs and his tail had been dragged through the smear during recording, picking up even more of the dye along the way. (Ion loved the way Ratchet's tail left marks in the blood trail and deliberately wanted that effect for the scene.)

"I never realized how much work was involved," Doug chuckled, a bit amused by Ratchet's predicament. Douglas Jetstream, an older member of the Lombax Defense Ministry, was assigned as Ratchet's escort while in Solana for the recording of Clank's latest Secret Agent Clank holovid, 'License to Terminate'. Doug was a bit younger than Petrov and Reg, being in his early fourties. Among his other hobbies, the deputy was an avid Secret Agent Clank fan, and Ratchet was sure that Rich pulled him away from his normal duties as night guard for the council chamber to let him watch the recording in person. But because Doug was more used to sitting behind a desk and would probably be distracted by the glamour and the activities surrounding Holostar Studios, Ratchet suspected that Doug was not the only watchbax Rich assigned to him.

"Yessir," Cronk said. "There's so much goin' on all the time."

"Almost like bein' in a ground war," Zephyr nodded.

"Minus the shootin'," Cronk corrected.

"Yeah," Ratchet said, calling out from the bathroom as he placed his hand (yet again) on the electrostatic cleaner. The blue field surrounded him and he felt that slight itching and tingling sensation as it did so. "There's a lotta details involved. But that's what makes it work. Everything's gotta be just right, or it'll look horrible on holovid." _ding_ Ratchet looked at himself critically. While he was clean, most of the fur on his chest, back, legs and tail had been stained red by the dye. Shaking his head grimly, the lombax realized that there was nothing more he could do about it here. Maybe the hydroshower cleaning solution would have better luck with it.

"Is that why they used so much blood?" Doug asked. "It seemed like overkill."

"It was," Ratchet nodded, returning to the common room of the trailer. The 'male extra' trailer was significantly smaller than Clank's, but was far more cluttered. There were three bunks along the long wall of the oblong portable shelter, a dozen small secure storage lockers against the far wall, four rather worn and patched padded chairs made of an imitation vinyl material gathered around a tiny holovid and gaming system. There was a chiller with multiple containers inside, their contents now unidentifiable and slowly evolving into higher organisms. A recycle bin next to it was precariously overflowing with old, discarded take out food tins. The lombax looked around and was strangely reminded of the intergalactic commando training transport Fizzwidget had commissioned to take him to the Bogon galaxy when he was younger. He looked over to Doug, lounging on one of the bunks. "But they hafta do that, or you won't see it on camera." Ratchet walked over to one of the secure storage lockers and retrieved his neural matrix and gloves. Putting them on, he started looking through his manifestor for some fresh clothes.

"They fuss over every durn thing," Cronk complained, scratching his head slightly causing black paint flecks to drift to the worn polymer sheet flooring.

"Stop that, ya fool!" Zephyr said, slapping Cronk on the side. "Thull make us go fer touch-ups agin!"

Cronk's head drooped a little. Sighing, he dropped his arms to his sides.

Ratchet had removed his shorts, put on a pair of comfortable jeans and was pulling a short sleeve shirt over his head and ears. He laughed out loud. "What kinda paint did they use? It's flakin' off pretty quick."

"I dunno," Cronk said. "Whatever it is, it's kinda itchy..."

Zephyr turned to Cronk and pointed his trigger digit into his optic. At very close range. "Don' even think about it! I don' wanna hafta go through _that_ agin."

The lombax looked up from putting on his boots. Itchy? "I never knew that paint could be itchy," Ratchet said, looking back and forth between Cronk and Zephyr. "I didn't think ya had sensors on the surface like that."

"We don't," Zephyr replied. "The durn fool gets it inta his head, 'n 'e can't stop 'mself."

"Yeah," Cronk replied. "It's mostly psych-e-delicate. Ya git used to it after a spell."

Ratchet chuckled, now fully dressed. He looked at his shorts skeptically; they too were heavily stained with the dye and the autoclean system had apparently burned out, unable to deal with it. The lombax tossed them on top of the mound in the disposal bin, knocking two of the carefully perched tins to the floor. "I wonder what Waterman does... All those thermal sinks..."

Ratchet knew that both Cronk and Zephyr had met Captain Waterman long before he did. Apparently, Waterman had piloted a dropship they had been stationed on at some point during their long military careers. And while it appeared as if both Zephyr and Cronk respected the captain, Ratchet inadvertently uncovered a bit of tension and history between the space faring Waterman and the 'groundling' warbots when he told them about his time aboard The Wrench.

Cronk laughed deeply. "I'm still confounded that fussbucket's still runnin'."

Zephyr nodded chuckling as well. "I bet that art-e-fact's gone 'n anodized himself."

"Yeah," Cronk replied. "Prob'bly wanted t' look all prim 'n proper."

"Actually, he looked kinda new," Ratchet said, drawing disapproving glares from both Zephyr and Cronk. Ratchet merely chuckled. "So to speak..."

"Is it that big of a deal?" Doug asked curiously. "I mean for the holovid."

"Sure!" Ratchet answered, turning back to the bunk. "I mean, if you spot a scene where Cronk's paint is chipped off, and then it isn't, you'll know it was edited. It looks weird 'n breaks it up."

Doug nodded. "Yeah... A continuity error. I get it..."

Zephyr checked his internal chronometer, glanced around the room and nodded to Cronk.

The tall warbot looked over to Ratchet. "Hey, rookie," Cronk said, "me 'n Zeph 'r due back on the set in a few ticks. We both gotta few more scenes t' shoot."

Zephyr chuckled. "Literally..."

"Are you lombaxes okay here?"

Ratchet and Douglas looked at each other. Doug nodded. "Yeah," he said. "We're both fine."

Ratchet chuckled. "But I doubt there's just two of us..."

"What do you mean?" Doug asked, turning towards Ratchet.

"Come on..." Ratchet teased, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his muzzle. "You really don't think I bought that you were my only watchbax, do ya?"

Doug looked at him, his eyes wide, ears perking.

"Rich knew you'd wanna watch the recording too. I'll betcha a hundred bolts someone's backin' ya up."

"He would have told me..." Doug said, shaking his head, but keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the lombax minister.

Cronk leaned over Ratchet's shoulder. Very quietly, so low that Doug could not hear, the warbot whispered, "He's bluffin', rookie. He's good, but he's practically glowin' in IR..."

Ratchet's smile got a little wider. "I know," he muttered. He stared at Douglas. "Done?"

Without a moment hesitation, Doug nodded. "Done."

Ratchet looked over to the two warbots. "Do me a favor 'n keep an eye on Clank."

"Don' worry, rookie," Cronk continued in a normal voice. "We'll keep our sensors on yer little buddy; make sure he stays outta trouble..."

"Him 'n his fembot," Zephyr added with a wry grin and a lecherous tone in his voice. Cronk nudged Zephyr in the side, hard, producing a rattling sound.

"No! Not the paint!" Zephyr cried out.

"Have you met Venus yet?" Ratchet asked.

"We're shootin' a scene with 'er later," Cronk replied.

"We're lookin' forward t' meetin' 'er," Zephyr continued. A slightly lecherous tone was still in his voice, but Ratchet could tell that the warbot was honestly looking forward to it. "Yer buddy's told us a lot about 'er."

"She's real nice," Ratchet said. "She 'n Clank'll be on New Fastoon tonight. This'll be her first time through the portal, so we've got somethin' special planned fer 'em."

Doug started chuckling. "Rich told me... He's even got some luxury land wanderers ready for you." Doug looked at Ratchet a bit critically. "So you're really gonna do the chauffer thing?"

Ratchet chuckled lightly and nodded. "Yup! Chaufferin', butlerin'... I even, uh, 'borrowed' the spare Jeeves costume..." Ratchet became a little more serious. "Doug, I want you to stay here with Cronk and Zephyr. Keep an eye on Clank. I don't expect trouble, but it's gotta way o' findin' us anyway. I've gotta go back t' New Fastoon in a few minutes; I promised Justin I'd teach him how t' do a comet strike with his new wrench."

"Sure, Ratchet," Doug said, reaching for his comm crystal. Then, suddenly realizing what he was doing, Doug stopped, frozen.

Ratchet was smiling very playfully from ear to ear. Cronk looked at the deputy and muttered, "...busted..." Doug groaned slightly, reached for his manifestor and transferred one hundred bolts to Ratchet's account.

"Don't worry," Ratchet said. "It was a good try. I'll make sure Rich pays ya back.

"That's not the point," Doug said, his ears drooping slightly, but with his eyes locked on Ratchet's. "I'm slippin'... You didn't see anyone, did you?"

Ratchet shook his head 'no', but laughed lightly. "Aren't we all... Seriously, though, go with the bots. I'm gonna go back t' New Fastoon."

At that moment, Ratchet's comm link chimed. The lombax answered it automatically with his neural matrix. "Ratchet."

"Hello, Ratchet," Clank said.

"Clank!" Ratchet said, happy to hear from him. "What's up?"

"I am on a five minute break while the studio staff changes the sets," Clank answered. "I wanted to contact you and make certain that you were alright."

"I'm fine, Clank," Ratchet answered. "Thanks. How 'bout you?"

"I am surprisingly well, Ratchet. Thank you for asking." Clank paused for a moment, then chuckled. "In a rather peculiar way, I actually enjoyed creating that scene. It was surprisingly... therapeutic."

"That's, uh, great... I think..." Ratchet said, a little dubiously. "Look, we're still on fer tonight, right?"

"Yes, Ratchet," Clank responded. "Thank you. Venus and I will be ready at sunset." There was a slight pause. "Are you certain that you wish to do this, Ratchet? After all, Venus is fully aware of your true identity and of our relationship. It is unnecessary."

"Yeah," Ratchet answered, laughing a little. "It's not necessary, but I wanna make tonight special fer you two. It'll be fun. Everything's set with Jacek 'n Ember; the dome's all yours tonight. D' ya have a program in mind?"

"Yes, Ratchet, I do," Clank answered. "Thank you, Ratchet. I appreciate all that you have done."

"Any time, Clank," Ratchet said, smiling slightly. "It'll be cool. You 'n Venus've been together fer a while now, 'n you deserve it. Talwyn 'n I'll be at Reg's."

"I do hope that everything goes well," Clank added. "I am sorry that the timing is such that I will not be there in person. If there is anything that I can assist with in that matter, please contact me."

"Nah!" Ratchet said. "We've got enough people - we can handle it."

There was a pause. "Forgive me, Ratchet, but I must go. I am required on the set. Venus and I will meet you at sunset."

"See ya later," Ratchet answered and disconnected the link. The lombax met the expectant gazes of the warbots and Douglas. "We're just tryin' t' make things special fer Venus. They've been seein' each other fer years now. The only reason she hasn't moved t' New Fastoon is 'cause she's stuck in a long term contract with Holostar. Clank asked her t' move in, but she can't move off the lot until her contract's up in seventy somethin' years." The lombax sighed, thinking briefly about how impossible that number seemed from an organic perspective. "Anyway, we've got the dome reserved, Jacek's putting together a robotic menu..."

"And you're going to be their chauffer..." Doug added.

"Chauffer, butler, waiter, the whole Jeeves package," Ratchet answered.

"This I gotta see," Zephyr said, nodding to Cronk.

"It's gonna look real silly," Ratchet sighed. "But it'll be nice." He looked at the warbots. "Are you guys gonna be okay here? Can you get back?"

"We'll be fine, Ratchet," Doug answered. "I've got a transD, so I can call and get a portal opened at any time."

"Good!" Ratchet nodded to Zephyr and Cronk. "I'll see you two tonight at Reg's. They'll be back from Saphria around ten. Then the fun starts..." Ratchet's voice trailed off heavily.

Ratchet activated his comm crystal, patching in a transD link. "Rich? Ratchet."

"Hey, Ratchet!" Rich's voice sounded very clear over the transdimensional link. "How did everything go?"

"Pretty much as expected. My holovid career's over..." Ratchet chuckled. "I got fired..."

Rich laughed at the other end of the link. "Again?"

"Yeah..." Ratchet replied, a grin on his face. "But this time, they really meant it."

"I'm sure... Ready to come home?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Rich."

The link disconnected. A distortion began to form inside the trailer in front of Ratchet, a swirling ring of energy suspended in midair. Through the ring, Ratchet could see Rich Quantum standing in his office in the Region Nine Lombax Defense Ministry compound. Ratchet turned and looked back at the warbots and Douglas. "Later guys..." he said, waving slightly with his gloved right hand. Turning back to the now stable portal, Ratchet stepped through.

The lombax found himself standing in Rich's office on New Fastoon. "Hey," Ratchet said casually, then turned back to face the rift. As he watched, the vortex of energy began to shimmer, its surface rippling and then it suddenly winked out of existence.

"What the hell happened to you?" Rich blurted out, his voice somewhat amused but with some concern evident in his eyes and his perked ears.

"Hmmm?" Ratchet asked, confused, turning to face Rich.

Rich seemed really embarrassed, as though he really did not want to clarify his question. Finally, he did... sort of... "Your tail..." The regional minister's voice trailed off, ashamed.

Ratchet twisted slightly and shifted his tail a bit. It seemed fine, except for...

"Oh, you mean the red fur?"

"Uh..." Rich could not meet Ratchet's eyes. He looked everywhere around his office except at his friend. "...yeah..."

Ratchet laughed out loud. He had learned early on when he moved to New Fastoon and started spending time with other members of his species that discussing another lombax's fur problems was a very blatant and embarrassing social faux pas. For Rich to have deliberately asked Ratchet about his tail must have taken a lot of effort on the regional minister's part, and Ratchet knew that only a close friend would even dare to mention a fur problem to another lombax. And he was probably really curious...

"It's just dye," Ratchet explained, shaking his head in amusement. "That's the fake blood they use on Holostar's sets; it really stains, 'n there was a lot of it..." Ratchet started chuckling a little. "Like I said, I got fired..."

Rich breathed a sign of relief, both from the fact that Ratchet was okay and that his curiosity was now satisfied. "Big time, I guess..."

"Yeah... Mind if I borrow your hydroshower?" Ratchet asked as he reached behind himself, grabbed his own tail and pulled the tuft in front of himself to examine; it was almost solid red. "I'm supposed t' meet Justin at the holorange in about an hour. I wanna try t' get this stuff out. The dye is worse than Caliber's rounds; electrostatic cleaners don't help at all."

"Help yourself," Rich said, gesturing towards the far alcove.

"Thanks," Ratchet said, moving quickly to the rear of the small building. He went into the small alcove, closed the door and began to undress.

Rich shouted to him from the main room of the ministry office, "So, how'd everything go with Doug? Did he keep an eye on you?"

"Yeah," Ratchet shouted back, standing in the hydroshower enclosure and activating the hydro jets. The lombax primed the cleaning solution and worked the foam carefully into the fur on his chest, legs and tail. "He had a great time! I think he learned a lot about making holovids, too." The lombax watched as the red dye swirled around the floor drain; at least it seemed to be water soluble. That was very good news. Ratchet chuckled. "So, Rich," he shouted over the water, "who else didja send?"

"I don't know what you mean," Rich answered, his raised voice coming from just outside the closed door.

"Yeah, right," Ratchet joked, switching the hydro to air and letting the hot air dry his fur. "We both knew Doug was gonna be distracted at Holostar. Who else didja send?"

There was a stifled laugh from outside the door as Ratchet deactivated the airblast system and stepped out of the chamber. Not too bad, he thought, looking at his visible fur. There was still a little bit of red, but nothing too noticeable unless you were looking for it. The lombax began to get dressed again. "What makes you think I did that?" Rich asked, his voice louder than normal, but no longer shouting to be heard over the water or air.

"I bet Doug a hundred bolts there was someone else there," Ratchet said, quickly pulling on his shirt and jeans, threading his tail through the appropriate opening. "He denied it, but Cronk, Zephyr 'n I caught 'm tryin' t' use a comm link." The lombax pulled on his boots, looked at himself in the display screen to make sure that everything was in order and slowly opened the door. Rich was standing around outside, as though he was an honor guard waiting on the minister. "He lost."

"Wait a minute," Rich said, his ears and tail drooping slightly as he looked at Ratchet. "You mean that Doug bet you a _hundred_ bolts that there wasn't anyone else with him?"

"Yeah," Ratchet said, chuckling slightly. "Well, technically, I bet _him_ a hundred..."

"He bet _me_ a _thousand_ bolts that he'd be able to keep you distracted enough so you'd never spot his partner."

Ratchet blinked in surprise. "Huh?"

"Doug bet me a thousand bolts that he'd be able to keep you from ever spotting his partner, and that he'd find a way to make you prove it." Rich said, his ears still a bit low.

Ratchet thought back on the conversation. "Right after he lost the bet, Doug asked me if I ever saw anyone else," Ratchet said, nodding his head, fairly impressed. "I told him no, and he paid me the bolts right there. It was just before I came back..."

"Sure he paid you off!" Rich said, shaking his head slightly, his tail lowering a bit further. "He'd found out what he wanted to know! That you didn't see anyone! He knew I'd owe him a thousand when he came back tonight!"

Ratchet started laughing. "Good investment; a hundred t' get a thousand..." Ratchet met Rich's eyes. "Ya know, I underestimated Doug. I didn't expect that..."

Rich shook his head, chuckling to himself as well. "Yeah," he answered. "Doug's good. I've played poker with him before; he's a shark!" Rich's eyes unfocused for a moment, and Ratchet caught a slight flicker from his manifestor. Usually, the manifestor crystal would pulse to match the cardiac rhythm of anyone wearing a neural matrix, but it appeared as if Rich was actively accessing it. His eyes refocused on Ratchet. "A shark that's now a thousand bolts richer..."

Ratchet nodded, chuckling, checked his gear and made sure he was ready. "I'm gonna pick up Justin from Zeke's place and head over to the holorange. Wanna come?"

"Sure," Rich said. "Give me a few minutes to get Wallace to cover the office."

"Wallace Refractor?" Ratchet asked. "I thought he was the one with Doug at Holostar..."

Rich smiled at him. "Wallace is a good tracker," he said, his muzzle split into a wide grin as he began teasing his friend. "But I've got a lot of other infiltrators on my side, some even better than he is!"

Ratchet's grin grew a little playful. Rich certainly knew how to play the game, but then, so did he. But the lombax was in no hurry to prove that he could escape, and he wanted to be able to take Talwyn, Clank and maybe some others along for the ride. Time was on his side... "Oh, I'm sure you do..." he meekly replied.

* * * * *

The brightly lit chamber may have been small, but it was buzzing with activity. The floor was made out of small, square metal tiles; however the tiles on the near side of the room were illuminated white, while others on the far side were almost black. Ratchet, Rich, Justin and Ember Caliber were standing on the white side of the room, far away from the borderline dividing the tile colors. On the black side, over three dozen tesla drones prowled the border, their electrical prods charged. Static was arcing in the air, filling the room with the faintest scent of ozone. But they were unable to cross the border onto the white tiles. There was also a drone generator at the far corner of the black area of the room, but it was idle at the moment.

Ratchet sank to one knee, met Justin's somewhat scared look and put his hand on the fourteen month old's shoulder. "There's nothin' t' worry about," he said comfortingly. "They may look mean, but they aren't really that tough." The lombax looked at the drones standing on the black side of the room. "Let me show ya..." Ratchet looked over to Colonel Ember Caliber and nodded.

Caliber was standing in sensory distortion force field, the slight orange shell of energy barely visible in the bright light of the room. Once Ratchet brought him his own neural matrix from Al, Ember had begun experimenting and had finally found a somewhat strange solution to his hypersensitive hearing problem: when the owner of the holorange enabled his force field, it completely eliminated _all_ inbound sound. While this effectively made Caliber totally deaf, Ember was finally able to move around and be with other people without having to take extreme precautions. As he explained to Ratchet and Petrov, the silence was actually a welcome relief! Ember was still experimenting with the system, trying to find a combination of dampening and amplifying effects that would permit normal conversation without making the colonel cringe and cover his ears protectively, while still allowing people outside the field to hear his tiniest whisper. He was also trying to see if he could somehow rig the field so that it would only cover or block his ears, leaving him free to move around and interact with people more normally. But until then, this was a workable option.

Caliber nodded in return. Using his neural matrix and a series of control crystals on a tablet he carried, Ember carefully shifted the color of one of the tiles on the border from white to black. This allowed one of the tesla drones to move forward, closer to them. Ember shifted the next tile, allowing the drone to move forward another space. Another one moved in behind it, forming a single file line of two drones. Caliber changed one more tile, and three drones now stood in a neat little row on black tiles in the white half of the room.

"Ember," Ratchet said, looking over to the colonel in his sensory distortion field and waving. The colonel did not hear him, but saw Ratchet wave. Ratchet held up a single finger. Ember looked at Ratchet, glanced over at the drones, thought for a moment and then his ears perked. Caliber looked at Ratchet and nodded his understanding. He adjusted the controls, and the two squares in line closest to the black area suddenly turned white. The tesla drones standing on those squares immediately vanished, leaving one drone standing immobile on a single black tile near them. The two drones that vanished were replaced as the drone generator in the corner sprang to life, bringing the count back to the original three dozen. Ratchet nodded and gave Ember a 'thumbs up' gesture.

Ratchet looked back into Justin's eyes. "I'm gonna let that drone shock me. It's not that bad. Really. Okay?" Justin nodded nervously. Rich moved to stand next to the kit.

Ratchet smiled, ruffled the fur at the base of Justin's ears and stood. Walking slowly over to the tesla drone, he could see Justin's scared look, but the older lombax smiled and waved slightly. Then Ratchet turned back to the drone. He could see the electricity arcing; it actually looked a little stronger than he had first thought. He didn't want to yelp and scare Justin any more than he was already. Glancing over to Ember again, he caught the colonel's attention and made a downward gesture with his gloved right hand. Ember nodded and all of the drones seemed to dim slightly, the arcs becoming smaller and less obvious. Ratchet called out, "Is this better, Justin?"

The kit silently nodded, seeming to relax a little.

Ratchet smiled, nodding to the kit and to Ember. Turning, he walked over to the drone until he was standing on a white square right next to it. The drone reached over, touching the lombax with the electrical prod. There was a quick shock and a loud cracking noise. Justin whimpered slightly, closed his eyes and grabbed tightly onto Rich's right leg. Rich looked down at the trembling kit with a huge smile on his muzzle.

"I'm okay, Justin," Ratchet called out.

"Uncle Ratchet?" Justin said uncertainly, peeking out from where he was clutching Rich's leg.

Ratchet was standing next to the drone completely unharmed. In fact, the electrical level was so low that the lombax barely even felt it. Clank had zapped him far worse trying to get his attention in the council chamber. The lombax spread his arms wide. "See? I'm fine." There was another cracking noise as the tesla drone shocked Ratchet again. The lombax did not even flinch. "The level's really low. Now, I'd never stand this close to" _crack_ "an enemy drone, but ya get the point, right?" _crack_

Justin nodded. "Yes, Uncle Ratchet."

"Uh, Justin," Rich said a little uncertainly. "Can I have my leg back, please?"

Justin chuckled nervously and let go of Rich's leg. "Sorry, Uncle Rich."

"No problem, Justin," Rich said kindly. "I understand." _crack_

Rich walked over to the lone tesla drone, standing next to Ratchet. The drone turned slightly, moving to the other side of the square and touched Rich with the electrical prod. _crack_ Rich blinked. "That's it?" he asked Ratchet quietly.

"I don't wanna scare Justin," Ratchet replied just as quietly. _crack_ "He's still kinda young t' deal with drones, but I wanna show 'm how t' handle his wrench. He can do a comet strike from a distance without havin' t' get too close." _crack_

Rich nodded. "Hey, Justin," he called out. _crack_ "Wanna come over and see what it feels like?"

The drone was alternately shocking Rich and Ratchet, but neither lombax even seemed to notice it. Justin shook his head a bit hesitantly at first, but then (after watching both his 'uncles' get shocked multiple times without flinching) started to slowly move forward. He stood between Ratchet and Rich, staring at the tesla drone, edging closer and watching it repeatedly touch the prod to them both. _crack_

_crack_

_crack_

_crack_

_CRACK!_

Justin yelped and jumped backward about half a cubit. He had not realized it, but his edging forward had brought him within range of the tesla drone. The drone had touched him with the prod and shocked the kit with its low voltage electrical weapon.

Ratchet and Rich desperately tried to contain their amusement. They knew the kit wasn't really hurt, but his reaction (especially since Justin was not expecting it) was really kinda funny. Ember, in his shielded environment was shaking his head and convulsing with silent laughter. _crack_

Justin looked up at his uncles, significantly embarrassed. "That's all?!?" Justin asked, the tone in his somewhat high pitched voice clearly showing that he was mad at himself for having been so worried all along. "That was nothin'!" _crack_

Ratchet was very quick to correct him. "That's all for now, Justin," Ratchet explained, falling once again to one knee next to the youngster. He was staring into the kits eyes, a deadly serious expression on his face. _crack_ "You're still kinda young. But you were right t' be scared. Remember - you can never tell if an enemy is harmless, like these guys, or if they're really dangerous. You don' wanna find out the hard way... D' ya understand?" _crack_

"Yes, Uncle Ratchet," Justin said, nodding. _crack_

"Okay," Ratchet answered, getting back on his feet. He looked down at Justin and smiled. "Let go back t' the other end o' the room. I'm tired o' gettin' zapped." _crack_

The three lombaxes wandered away from the tesla drones. The lone drone on the single black square turned between Caliber, Ratchet, Rich and Justin, as though hoping one would come back into range. The others continued to prowl along the border between the white and black tiles.

Ratchet sat down on the tiles and motioned for Justin to join him. The kit sat down next to him. Rich sat down on the other side of the kit, forming a small circle. "Can I see your wrench for a second, Justin?" Ratchet asked.

As he had planned, Justin had saved his bolts for a few weeks and purchased the omniwrench 8000 from Ratchet. It was Justin's first tool, and the kit was ecstatic when Ratchet took the ten bolts from him and presented him with the wrench. Getting his or her first tool was a milestone for any lombax (right up there with their first explosive weapon, their first land vehicle, first machine repaired, first space ship - usually followed soon after by their first crash, getting bonded, etc.) and it would be something that Justin would remember his entire life. Ratchet and Reg wanted to make it special for the kit, so Reg gave Justin his own manifestor to store it in, and Ratchet promised to give him lessons on how to use the omniwrench in combat.

Justin touched his manifestor crystal and the omniwrench 8000 materialized in his hand. It was still a little heavy for the youngster; his hand and arm drooped a little with the sudden weight. But Justin recovered quickly, put his other hand under the shaft near the blades of the wrench and offered it to his uncle.

Ratchet took the familiar wrench from Justin. "I know you know how to use it as a wrench already," Ratchet said, carefully explaining to the kit. "But I wanna show you a few things. The omniwrench can do a lot more than just be a common wrench..." Ratchet took the wrench and gripped it in his right hand, then he traced along the slightly curved side on one of the two gripping blades. "D' ya see this curve here?" Justin nodded. "D' ya know what it's for?"

"No, Uncle Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled slightly. "This is what makes the wrench so handy." Ratchet twisted the omniwrench in his hand slightly so Justin could easily see the curved edge. "The metal along the curve tapers a bit as it gets closer t' the edge. It's not sharp 'r anything, but it makes it hit a lot harder. All the force you put into a swing is concentrated on that narrow bit, so you can do more damage than ya could if you used the flat side."

Justin's eyes were locked on the wrench and his ears were eagerly perked, listening to his uncle. Rich and Caliber both had happy grins on their faces as they watched Ratchet giving Justin his lesson.

"The curve also helps give you more control. If you throw the wrench the right way, it'll even come right back to you. That's called a 'comet strike'."

Justin looked up into Ratchet's eyes, nodded and repeated, "A comet strike..."

"Right!" Ratchet said, approvingly. "A comet strike's one of the four basic attacks you can do with an omniwrench. There's also a regular strike, a combo strike and a hyper strike. Lemme show ya..."

Ratchet looked up at Caliber and made a sweeping gesture with his right hand. Ember looked at the lombax, completely confused and shook his head. Ratchet wanted Caliber to create another pathway extension so that the drones could approach and wait in a single file, as he had done before. But how to explain it...

Ratchet suddenly grinned. Activating his comm crystal, he said out loud, "Ember?"

Caliber's comm crystal vibrated (the colonel had changed the audible chime to a vibration due to the unwelcome volume) and he activated the link with his neural matrix. "Ratchet?"

The minister smiled. "Yeah. Since the link's not audible, I figured this might work..."

"This is a great idea! Combining the link with the distortion field..." Ember whispered into the link.

"You don't have to speak out loud," Ratchet explained. "Clank told me that it works right from the brain somehow. Just think your words - they'll still get through."

Colonel Ember Caliber was smiling happily. "Excellent!" he 'said' in a louder voice, not vocalizing the words but concentrating on the link. "Why didn't I think o' this before?"

Ratchet chuckled. "I dunno. Look - can you give me a single file stream of drones, like you did before?"

"Sure, Ratchet." Ember adjusted the controls on his panel and a line of tiles from the black side of the room suddenly darkened, forming a path for the drones to move forward on. A single file line of drones moved closer, but stopped as they came to the end of the path.

"Perfect!" Ratchet said into the link. "Thanks."

"Can you keep the link open?" Caliber asked. "This is the first time I have had a semi-normal conversation with another lombax in over fifteen years."

"Sure," Ratchet answered smiling. "But you've used links before, haven't you?"

"Yeah, but that's not usually face to face," Caliber explained. "Most 'baxes don't open links if they're standing right next to you... And they're still too loud."

"True..." Ratchet admitted. "Want me t' tie ya in with Justin and Rich?"

"Sure!"

Ratchet looked at the others and using his neural matrix added them to the virtual conversation. After a brief introduction and explanation of what was going on, Ratchet resumed his instruction. The lombax stood, gestured for Justin to follow him and walked near to the first drone. He was standing out of range, but the drone continued to watch him and attempt to shock him with its electrical prod. _crack_

"There are four types of strikes you can use with an omniwrench," Ratchet explained to Justin. "A regular strike is a single sweep of the wrench through your opponent. You wanna use the curved part of the wrench to make the hit a little harder. Like this..." Ratchet took a single, well practiced swing with the omniwrench. The drone exploded into about a dozen pieces, flying around the room. The generator in the far corner created a new one, keeping the count steady at thirty six. The next drone in the single file line moved forward, extending its prod to try to shock Ratchet. _crack_

"Wow..." Justin whispered, impressed. He picked up one of the large fragments of drone. Holding it in his small gloved hands, he studied it carefully, a grin on his muzzle.

Ratchet noticed the look on his face and knelt back down next to him. "Justin?" The kit looked up at him. "This is why yer dad 'n I keep tellin' ya that the wrench is not a toy. It's a _tool_. When used right, it can do lots of amazing things. It can even save yer life someday." Ratchet chuckled slightly, thinking back to his own kithood. "I know it did fer me." Becoming serious again, he stared into Justin's eyes and continued. "But it's somethin' ya hafta be careful with. You wouldn't wanna hurt somebody by accident." Ratchet took the drone fragment from Justin's hands and threw it to the other side of the room. "Do you know what I mean?"

Justin nodded, very seriously. "Yes, Uncle Ratchet."

Ratchet smiled. "Good."

The lombax stood again and went back to the waiting line of drones. "Okay. That's what happened when I used the curved part of the wrench. Lemme show ya what happens if ya hit with the flat side..."

Ratchet repositioned the wrench and hit the next drone in line with the flat side. The impact made a resounding crash, but did not completely destroy or even disable the drone. The drone struck Ratchet back with the electrical prod. _crack_

"See?" Ratchet said to Justin. "The drone still works, and it even got a shot at me."

Justin nodded.

"The next strike's called a combo strike. It's actually a few regular strikes in a row, using the forward swing 'n the return to hit multiple enemies. Like this..." Ratchet took a few swings, spinning backhand slightly on the reverse so that he could use the curved edge and get the maximum damage possible. Drone fragments flew everywhere. After a few seconds, Ratchet had destroyed about a half dozen drones. He returned to Justin and more drones were generated, taking the place of the broken ones.

"The hyper strike's when you have one big bad guy you wanna take down. Basically, ya jump in the air and bring the curved part o' the wrench down on their heads. This way, all your force combines with the landing from the jump. Like this..." Ratchet jumped into the air and smashed down on the head of the next drone in line with all of his might. "HeeeeYAH!" The drone exploded into hundreds of tiny fragments. Justin gasped and picked up one of the small pieces, turned it over in his hands and put it into his manifestor.

Turning back to Justin, Ratchet continued his explanation. "Now, all these strikes have one thing in common - they all depend on how strong you are. They take a lotta practice, but they also take a lot more physical strength 'n endurance swingin' the wrench." The lombax chuckled. "I've been doin' this all my life. Yer still a little young t' be doin' these kind o' strikes 'n expect t' do any real damage." Justin's ears and tail drooped, a disappointed look filling the kit's eyes.

Rich chuckled slightly. "So eager..." he muttered.

Caliber nodded. "Just like his dad..."

Ratchet nodded. Yeah, he could picture Reg doing the same thing when he was a kit. The lombax looked at Justin; the kit's eyes were downcast to the floor. Ratchet put his gloved hand under Justin's muzzle and lifted it, bringing Justin's eyes into contact with his own. "Don't worry. That'll come with time. And there's still a strike ya can do where it doesn't matter how strong you are... The comet strike!"

Justin's ears perked a little and he smiled slightly. Ratchet continued.

"A comet strike is when you throw your wrench at your opponents. When you do it right, the curve makes the wrench come right back t' ya. But before it does, it flies out, hitting anything in its path... Like this..."

Ratchet aligned himself along the row of drones waiting in single file. Crouching slightly, Ratchet did a sweeping move with his arm, letting the wrench go just as it was at the furthest point from his body. The wrench continued to spin, slicing through drone after drone along the line, until the wrench suddenly reversed direction and returned along the same path it took. Ratchet grabbed the handle of the wrench midair in a well practiced move.

Justin, looking on, started clapping. "Cooool..."

Ratchet moved back to the waiting kit. "Thanks. As ya can see, it's not how hard I threw it. It's all in the wrench 'n the way you throw it. And LOTSA practice." He smiled at his nephew. "It'll still takes a bit o' time t' get used to; don't expect t' be an expert in a few days. But that's what we're gonna start workin' on."

* * * * *

Ratchet had Ember scan the omniwrench into the holorange system and create a wrench generator, similar to the drone generator at the far end of the room. Ratchet then gave Justin back his wrench, telling the kit to put it away for now. Justin did so, a little puzzled. Ratchet looked at him and grinned...

"It took me almost a week t' get the wrench t' come back after I threw it," Ratchet explained, lying slightly to the kit. "The holowrenches'll vanish when we turn off the range. But we can generate tons of 'em until ya get the hang of it, 'n we won't hafta chase 'em all over the room. Okay?" Justin nodded and Ratchet grinned. It had actually taken the lombax only an hour or two to figure out how to throw the wrench and get it to come back to him when he was a kit, but he wanted to let Justin be happily surprised if he picked it up sooner than the promised 'week'...

Ratchet took one of the holowrenches from the generator. Justin grabbed a second. It was still a little heavy for him, being an exact recreation. "The first thing you do, Justin," Ratchet explained, "is crouch down like this." The lombax crouched into a ready position. Justin mimicked his motions. "This gives you a really good sense o' balance 'n a low center o' gravity. How's it feel?"

"Good, Uncle Ratchet," Justin answered. "It looks kinda silly, though..."

Rich, standing behind the pair, chuckled. "Yeah," he answered. "Especially from back here..."

Ratchet growled slightly at Rich. "Ignore him, Justin," he said. "The reason we're doin' this is because it gives us more control. When we throw the wrench, we can put more inta the swing without topplin' over. Now bring yer arm back, twisting a little at your hips... That's right... Now, we're not actually gonna let go this time, but swing your body as though you were sweeping through a drone standin' right in front o' ya. That's right!"

Justin mirrored Ratchet's slow motion movements, and after a few repetitions was able to match the older lombax's throwing style.

Very gradually, Ratchet increased the speed of the swing, still not releasing the wrench. Faster and faster, Justin was able to keep up with and mimic his uncle's technique. But over the next ten minutes, the kit started to straighten up a little. On the last practice swing, the momentum of the wrench pulled Justin off balance; he stumbled forward.

"That's why we're crouching," Ratchet explained. "You were a bit too high, 'n the wrench knocked ya' off balance. Don' worry 'bout it. But ya wanna keep low..."

"Yes, Uncle Ratchet," Justin said, his voice sounding a little tired and maybe a little bored.

Ratchet noticed. "This time, Justin," he said, wanting to give the kit a bit of visible progress, "I want ya t' let go o' the wrench just as yer arm comes even with your body. The curve in the wrench and the sweep o' your arm should cause the wrench t' spin 'n keep movin' forward. And with a little practice, it'll start comin' back t' ya on its own. Like this..."

Ratchet once again demonstrated the comet strike, repeatedly going through the motions, releasing the wrench just as his arm was straight out from his body. Justin watched as the wrench continued to spin like a rotating blade, moving forward to cut through the ranks of drones only to return to Ratchet's waiting grip.

With a nod, Justin tried to throw the wrench. He let go a little early and the wrench fell next to him. The kit tried a few more times; each time Ratchet gave him recommendations and pointed out what he was doing wrong, having the kit practice the motions independently of the throw and then trying the entire strike in sequence.

After about twenty minutes, Justin threw the wrench cleanly. It spun in the air, moving forward and smashing through three of the drones in series before it stopped and fell to the ground on the far side of the room. Justin was thrilled and Ratchet ruffled the fur around his ears. "Great job!" Ratchet said excitedly. "That's exactly what ya wanna see happen - the wrench spun on its own, 'n the curve kept it movin'."

"Ember," Ratchet said, glancing at the colonel, "can you rig a one way force field?" Ember nodded and there was a sudden orange flickering in front of them.

"This way," Ratchet explained to both Justin and Ember, "you don' hafta worry about catchin' it yet." Ratchet motioned to Justin. "Watch how I flick my wrist a little when I let go. That added motion gets the wrench t' start comin' back."

Ratchet threw a comet strike and the wrench started to return, but suddenly thudded into the force field in front of them. It fell harmlessly about a cubit in front of their feet. Rich, standing behind them, laughed. Ratchet turned toward him and called out, "It beats tryin' t' dodge a flyin' wrench!"

"You're style's a little unorthodox," Ember said, "but I can't deny it works!"

"How did you learn to do this, Ratchet?" Rich asked.

Ratchet smiled slightly at the memory. "My dad on Veldin... He was a mechanic. We lived in a kinda rough area, 'n he wanted t' make sure I knew how t' defend myself. We didn't really have much in the way o' weapons, but you shoulda seen what he could do with a length o' chain..." Ratchet's voice drifted off. "Anyway, he's the one who showed me how t' handle a wrench."

Rich nodded, having seen the still image of Cog and Mil that Ratchet had brought back with him from Veldin. The lombax had it on prominent display in his apartment next to Talwyn's childhood image with her father, Max. "No wonder you like shock ravagers so much..." Rich replied.

Justin watched carefully and emulated what Ratchet was doing with his throws. At this point, the fourteen month old kit was able to throw the wrench cleanly each time, but getting it to come back was a little harder. "Just relax, Justin," Ratchet said. "Yer tryin' too hard. Watch how I'm always followin' through smoothly like this. That'll be important later. Don't try fer distance or try to get power, just stay nice 'n smooth and let the wrench's weight work fer ya..."

Ratchet knelt behind Justin, guiding his arm through the sweeping motion. As he repeated this a few times, Justin began to get more comfortable with it. "Ohhhh..." the kit said out loud and began to get the idea. "Okaaaayyyy..." Ratchet backed away and let Reg's son work on his motion - it looked right.

"Now, try it with a wrench in your hand, and don't forget that little flick when you release it."

Justin did so. The wrench left his hand, spinning like a round blade. It sliced through three of the drones and then suddenly reversed direction. The wrench was flying straight at them! Justin yelped slightly and ducked out of the way, but the wrench hit the force field and fell harmlessly at their feet. Caliber started laughing again, this time his laughter made obvious over the link.

Ratchet suppressed a chuckle of his own. "That's why we've got the force field, Justin. At least fer now. Just try it a few more times 'til it feels natural to ya."

"Okay, Uncle Ratchet. This is kinda neat!" The kit was feeling pretty impressed at how well he was doing and was eager to try a few more. While he was not able to do it one hundred percent of the time, Justin's throws were getting better, smoother and were coming back.

"Don't forget the follow through!" Ratchet reminded him. "You want your arm sweepin' back at the same speed. That'll help ya catch the wrench on the return flight."

Rich shook his head and gave Ratchet a funny look. "Please don't tell me you learned to do this with a real wrench..."

Ratchet looked at him, completely perplexed. "Yeah. Why not?"

Rich closed his eyes and shook his head. "Ember..." he sighed sadly.

"Ratchet," Ember said, his voice somewhat amused but also with a strangely serious note in it. "When we teach kits, we usually have a safety field on."

"Safety field?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah," Ember replied. "It's rigged so if the kit doesn't grab the handle, the holowrench vanishes. I've seen it done with Shatterglas wrenches too, but that's useless with real targets."

Ratchet thought for a second then said, "oh..." very quietly. He hadn't even thought about it.

"You did this with a real wrench?" Rich asked again, dismayed.

"Yeah," Ratchet responded. "Of course."

"Didn't it hurt when you missed?"

"Yeah," Ratchet admitted. "But I didn't miss all that much after the first few times..."

Ember and Rich just looked at each other and shook their heads quietly. Rich muttered, "That explains a lot..."

"Justin," Ember called out over the link.

The kit was getting a lot better with his throws, and was now able to consistently get the wrench to return to him. There was a pile of holowrenches stacked in front of him. "Yes, Mister Caliber?"

"Do you see how the wrenches on the ground in front of you are all pointed the same way?"

Justin looked down. Ember was right - the wrenches all seemed to be facing in the exact same direction, in the same position, almost as though they had been deliberately stacked. "Yeah. Weird..."

"Not weird, actually," Ember explained. "Ratchet, do you want to..."

Ratchet chuckled. "Thanks. The reason they're all in the same direction like that is because o' the way you threw 'em. The only reason they spin at all is 'cause o' the spin you put on them with your arm, swinging 'n releasing like that. That's why the follow through is so important. Watch me..."

Ratchet threw another comet strike, following through as normal. But as soon as the wrench hit the field, the lombax deliberately stopped his motion. "Justin, see how my arm's bent right now, and where my hand is?"

Justin looked. Ratchet's hand was open, his arm in front of him across his body. The position of the wrench that had fallen to the ground was lined up almost (but not exactly) with the grip near his hand. "Yes, Uncle Ratchet. It looks..."

"Almost like I could reach out and pick up the wrench?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes."

"It's all part of the rhythm," Ratchet explained. "By the time my hand gets here on the follow through, the wrench is back and ready for me to grab."

"Ohhhh..." Justin said. "Okay..."

"It takes a bit o' practice," Ratchet explained, "but you can grab the wrench right outta the air fer your next swing."

"Justin," Ember said, interrupting. "I've set up a safety field. The wrenches will automatically vanish from the holosimulation if you don't grab them by the handle. See?" All of the holographic wrenches now had green and red coloring on them: green on the grips, red everywhere else on the tool. "If you touch them by anything red, they will immediately disappear. Try it out..."

The kit went to pick up a wrench by the red shaft, but it immediately vanished. Justin could not even touch it. Then he picked one up by the grip. "Wow..." Justin exclaimed. "Cool..." As an experiment, he tried poking Ratchet with the wrench, but as soon as the red part touched the lombax, the wrench vanished.

Ratchet chuckled. "Thanks, Ember," he said.

He looked over to Justin and picked up a wrench of his own. "Watch me a few times. Keep an eye on my follow through and when I grab the wrench. I've done this so many times, I don't think I could tell ya what t' look for anymore."

Ratchet threw a few comet strikes, not aiming for the drones, but just in space. Justin watched him very carefully. After a few throws, the kit started nodding in time with Ratchet's movements. Ratchet continued to throw strikes and Justin started emulating his uncle's movements, nodding his head and opening his hand just as Ratchet was. "I got it..." the kit said.

Justin picked up a wrench by the green handle and threw. It spun through the air and returned. The kit grabbed for it, but a little too early - his gloved hand hit the red shaft and the wrench vanished immediately. "Awwww..." Justin mumbled disappointed, but picked up another and tried again. After a few more attempts, Justin succeeded in catching the wrench in midair! "Uncle Ratchet!" he called excitedly, holding the wrench up for everyone to see. "I did it!"

"Alright!" Ratchet exclaimed, ruffling the fur around the kit's ears again. Justin giggled a little, but had a huge smile on his muzzle. "Let's throw a few together, just to get the hang of it. Ready? One..."

Ratchet and Justin threw a series of comet strikes together. While Justin did not catch them all, especially in the beginning, it was quite obvious that the kit was improving with practice. Pretty soon, Justin was throwing and catching them somewhat consistently. Ratchet looked over and smiled. "Good job, Justin!" he said, praising the kit's efforts. "Yer really doin' well. Ready t' try with your real wrench?"

"No," Ember interrupted. He looked into Ratchet's eyes, shaking his head a little. "Not yet, Ratchet. Let him practice with the safety field for a few days. Once he gets to the point that he can go a whole session without errors, then he can start with the real wrench."

Ratchet's and Justin's ears both fell a little, but Ratchet knew that Ember was right. It was a lot safer that way. More boring, maybe, but the colonel did have a point. "Okay."

Ratchet knelt down next to Justin and met his eyes. "Mister Caliber is right," Ratchet said quietly. "It takes a lotta practice. Yer doin' well, though. Pretty soon, you'll be using your real wrench. Sound good?"

Justin nodded. "Yes, Uncle Ratchet," he said. He sounded a little disappointed, but seemed okay with it. The kit looked into Ratchet's eyes, and the lombax could see the eagerness there. "Can I try a few more?"

Ratchet smiled, looked up at Ember and Rich. Both of them nodded. "Sure," Ratchet answered. "Why don'tcha try taking out a few o' those drones."

* * * * *

After nearly an hour (with Justin improving steadily the entire time), the lombaxes decided to finish up for the day. Ember had to return to work at the holorange; Justin was not used to swinging the wrench around and was getting tired. Plus all of the lombaxes were starting to get hungry.

After saying goodbye to Colonel Caliber, Rich, Ratchet and Justin teleported directly to Reg's house. Reg and Melody were still not due back from Saphria until this evening, but Talwyn and Petrov were there, minding the one month old Crystal. As was their typical custom, they targeted the front entrance for the teleporter - it was considered rude to just materialize inside someone else's home without an invitation, and even though Justin was with them, Ratchet and Rich did not want to just pop in. What they had forgotten to take into account, however, were local weather conditions.

New Fastoon, much like the original in the Polaris galaxy, was a rather arid world with most of its reserves of liquid water below ground in subterranean rivers and large cavernous deposits. There were portions of New Fastoon, however, that had surface lakes and Reg's home in Region 8 was very near one of those areas. Unfortunately, where you have surface water, you also have evaporation and the inevitable condensation. And while the lombaxes had installed weather modification satellites into orbit, they were designed primarily to break up large scale wind storms that occasionally formed in the polar and desert regions; their main goal was for preventing damaging conditions, not for fine tuning daily forecasts. Ratchet, Justin and Rich had materialized outside Reg's home into the middle of a localized, and rather heavy, downpour.

The warm rain drenched the trio as they crossed the short distance from the large parking area to the enclosed front entrance. Rich and Ratchet ran the distance quickly, but Justin lingered behind, head upturned towards the rain and a huge smile on his muzzle as he jumped and splashed into every puddle he could find as he meandered slowly up the path. When he finally arrived next to his uncles, Justin's fur was completely soaked through, with rainwater dripping from the tips of his ears that were drooping due to the added weight. Ratchet chuckled and jokingly pointed to a small pool of somewhat muddy water on the other side of the path. "You missed one..."

Justin was not to be denied. With a quick and eager, "Thanks!" the kit left the shelter of the front entrance, wandered over to the indicated puddle and jumped into it as hard as he could. It was a little deeper than he first thought, though, and the ejected spray of water gave way for the shallow hole to rapidly refill, deep enough to reach the kit's ankles and overflow into the kit's running shoes.

Rich looked at Ratchet and groaned. "You just _had_ to give him that idea, didn't you?" he asked plaintively.

"I didn't think he'd actually go back," Ratchet said in his own defense, shaking his head slightly.

"Wouldn't you?" Rich asked.

Ratchet thought about it, remembering back to when he was a kit. "Yeah... Probably..." he admitted.

Rich grinned slightly. "Me too..."

Justin had already turned and was slowly walking back to the door, the smile on his muzzle even wider than before. As he approached, both Ratchet and Rich could detect a strange squishing sound with each step; there must have been at least a centicubit of water trapped in each of the kit's shoes. When he reached his uncles, Justin reached out and put his hand on the alarm sensor. "It's me," he said. The door immediately cycled open, and Justin bounded over and avoided the heavily textured cleaning threshold his uncles were cleaning their boots on, leading Rich and Ratchet into the Solstice House.

As they walked down the grand corridor lined with various galleries, exhibits and special purpose rooms of all sorts (including a media center that would put Holostar's executive screening room to shame), Ratchet became increasingly aware of, and uncomfortable with, the continued squishing and squeaking of Justin's soggy running shoes on the highly ornamental polished stone of the formal estate. Glancing behind him, the lombax saw at least ten cleaning drones trailing behind them, drying and polishing the floor, removing traces of mud and flashing their optics in a ruby glare in their general direction. "Uh, Justin," Ratchet said hesitantly, "maybe ya should take off yer shoes..."

Rich turned around and saw the cluster of drones. His eyes widened and he glanced down at the muddy footprints the kit was leaving wherever he went.

"Nah..." Justin said, glancing back and waving happily at the drones. "They were bored. They jus' don't wanna admit it."

Ratchet and Rich looked at each other. The kit had a point - what did drones do when their programmed function was already complete? Looking around at the spotless foyer they were standing in, Ratchet had to agree with Justin. Most of the Solstice House was open to the public, so there was a literal army of drones stationed at various points along the corridors and in the rooms as well, providing continual cleaning and detailing services. But on a day when there were no tours, there must be very little for them to do. Everything had already been polished to a spotlessly clean shine; maybe a one year old was just the challenge they wanted.

They continued down the hall, an ever growing contingent of cleaning drones trailing behind them, until they came to a completely unadorned thorntree wood door hung on antique metal hinges. It was well out of the way of most of the public areas of the house, and unless you knew ahead of time, you would never have suspected that this unassuming door that looked like a small closet was really the entrance to the lombax prime minister's personal suite.

Justin moved to the side of the door and kicked his running shoes off. One of them tipped over, spilling a small amount of somewhat muddy rainwater on the stone floor. The drones kept a respectful distance, but Ratchet looked into their optics and would have bet a hundred bolts that there was an eager, almost hungry gleam there.

"They look like a bunch of tetramites, ready to swarm," Rich said very quietly, his right hand at his side as though ready to manifest his blaster.

"Tetramites?" Ratchet asked.

Rich looked at him, opened his muzzle as though about to explain and then shut it again. "Nevermind."

Justin turned to the drones and waved. "Have fun!" he said as he opened the door. Ratchet thought he noticed the optics on a few of the drones flicker, but he was not sure if that was in anger or thanks.

"Oh, no you don't!" Rich said, quickly scooping Justin from the floor and lifting the struggling kit up. "You're not going in there all muddy like that. Your mom would kill me!"

"Awwww..." Justin began.

"No, Justin," Rich said.

The kit looked at Ratchet for support, but the lombax shook his head. "No, Justin," Ratchet said. "I agree with Uncle Rich. Your mom would kill us _both_ if we letcha in like that."

"But..."

"No," Ratchet said, with a shake of his head and a note of finality in his voice. Justin groaned slightly to himself.

Rich (with a very soggy Justin slung over his shoulder) and Ratchet walked through the door into Reg's suite. Rich immediately took a left turn. "I'm going to toss him into the airblast for a few minutes. We'll be right in." Ratchet nodded and closed the wooden door. There was a sudden clattering sound on the other side, as though the drones that had been waiting suddenly pounced on the running shoes and any other offending bit of dirt and water they could find outside.

Ratchet walked into the suite. To his left were the sleeping chambers, bathrooms and a utility area. In front of him was the familiar west facing bay window with the breakfast nook and prep center. Reg's chair was next to the window, Melody's on his right and Justin's (with a height adjuster) to Reg's left. The chair across from Reg's place was stacked with some infant gear for taking care of Crystal.

Ratchet turned to his right and walked through the prep center to the family room. The entire suite was strangely quiet except for the sound of a soft lullaby. As soon as he rounded the corner, he could see Talwyn, Petrov and Crystal. But before he could say anything, Talwyn held up her hand, silencing her mate.

Talwyn was standing next to a low, but sturdy thorntree wood table. While the table itself was unadorned, there was a large heating lamp on a curved support beaming down on a basket lined with soft, velvety red blankets and linens. Ratchet grinned. The simulated sunlight was probably there to preheat the portable basket for Crystal, to make it comfortable for her as she slept. Near the table, Petrov was reclining back in a heavily padded chair, a huge and somewhat dreamy smile on his muzzle. The general's boots were off, placed carefully to his left side, with his bare triangular feet stretched out in front of him in a stray bit of light from the warming lamp. He had also removed his uniformed shirt, exposing the somewhat graying fur on his chest and arms. Petrov's gloved left hand was resting on his stomach, his arm cradling the almost one month old Crystal to his chest. The kit was breathing heavily, and a slight snore rose from her as she nestled into Petrov's fur. Ratchet realized the music he heard was Petrov, gently humming an obviously comforting deep baritone tune for the infant.

Ratchet could not help but smile. It was such a wonderful image. Too bad he and Talwyn could not have kits of their own.

Talwyn finished the preparations on the basket, then turned and walked over to Ratchet. She kissed him on the muzzle. "Sorry about that," she whispered. "Crystal _just_ fell asleep. She's been up all morning. Petrov _finally_ got her to doze off."

"I told ya," Petrov said, in a kind of sing-song voice amid his humming that continued to lull Crystal. "Kits jus' love the feel o' warm fur 'n a little song. Worked like a charm fer the twins when they got cranky..."

"Where's Justin?" Talwyn asked.

"Rich dragged him off to the airblast," Ratchet answered. "He decided t' jump in every puddle he could find on the way in..."

Petrov started chuckling quietly to himself. Crystal squirmed slightly on his arm, burrowing herself deeper into his fur and snoring a bit louder, her threadlike yellow tail standing out against one of Petrov's dark stripes. "Yeah," he muttered. "I'm sure. Reg always loved the water as a kit." Very carefully, Petrov stood. He walked over to the basket and gently placed Crystal in the center of the padded cushions. She looked like a bit of golden fluff with the artificial sunlight shining on her fur. The infant squirmed again, curled into a tiny ball and began snoring even louder. Ratchet's adopted father grinned, nodded to himself and a small sensory distortion force field formed around the basket. It was nearly transparent, but they could hear Crystal's snore magnified many times in volume.

"That's better," Petrov said in his normal, somewhat loud, voice. "The field's so we don't wake 'er up." He glanced over at the kit in the basket and that dreamy smile played across his muzzle. In a somewhat softer voice, Petrov added, "That, 'n I like t' hear 'er snore..."

"You did great," Talwyn said, giving Petrov a hug.

The general was a little surprised and seemed to freeze in her grip at first, as though it bothered him in some way. After a moment, he relaxed and chuckled. "I've had a lotta practice," he said, reaching for his uniform shirt as soon as she released him.

He began to put it on when Justin came running into the room, barefoot, wearing a fresh (and dry) set of clothes. Rich wandered in after him. Petrov quickly fastened his shirt, sat back down and reached for his boots. Looking up at the kit, he pulled on his left boot and said, "Hey, Justin."

"Hi, Uncle Petrov!" Justin said in his somewhat high pitched voice as Petrov put on his right boot in turn. Glancing around, Justin added, "Hi, Aunt Talwyn."

"Justin," Talwyn answered, looking over the kit from tip to tuft. There were still traces of dried mud in his somewhat tangled fur, but at least he was no longer dripping. She lifted her eyes to glare at Ratchet briefly.

Ratchet saw the look, walked over to Talwyn, put his arm around her waist and kissed her gently on the cheek. Whispering, he told her, "If you think that's bad, you shoulda seen _me_ as a kit..." Talwyn chuckled a little and her face softened.

Rich walked over to the basket, saw Crystal asleep and noticed the force field. Nodding, he turned to face Petrov. "Good idea about the force field," he said. Glancing around, he asked the general in a more serious tone, "Where's Vincent?"

Deputy Vincent Asymptote, son of Minister Gerald Asymptote of the Lombax Central Council, was currently assigned to Rich's Region Nine deputy squad and served as Petrov's primary watchbax. Ratchet had first met Vincent outside Petrov's apartment about a month ago during their card game. He seemed like a nice guy, if a little young and inexperienced.

"Oh, I'm sure he's around here somewhere," Petrov said with a bit of a sneaky grin creeping up on his muzzle. "He knows Reg doesn't have any teleporters in the suite, so he's probably by the door..."

Rich stared at Petrov in shock. Ratchet and Talwyn started chuckling quietly. All three of them understood the unspoken implications of Petrov's comment. Rich hit his communicator crystal. "Vincent!" he scolded. "Get in here!" Justin wandered over and sat down on the floor next to Petrov's chair.

There was a flash and Deputy Asymptote materialized in the room. He looked around briefly, nodded to Petrov and walked over to stand in front of Rich. "Yes, sir?" he said, a little uncertainly.

Rich looked into his eyes and his anger melted away a little. He was just young...

"Vincent," Rich began. "You're supposed to be guarding Petrov."

"I know." the watchbax replied, a bit puzzled. "I was outside the suite the whole time. I saw you come in."

Rich shook his head. "What if he went out a window or teleported?"

"The windows are rigged," Vincent answered. "I've got alarms hidden around the perimeter. And the Prime Minister is teleport phobic. There are no pads in the suite; I checked myself before I left." Ratchet and Talwyn continued chuckling. The sly grin on Petrov's face grew larger. "What?" Vincent asked, completely confused.

Rich just sighed, "Petrov..."

Petrov looked up into Vincent's amber eyes. Smiling slightly, he made a quick gesture with his right hand and used his neural matrix to summon a teleporter pad into Reg's family room. The deputy's jaw dropped in shock. "How'd you do that?" he asked in a somewhat bewildered voice.

"Vincent," Rich said, explaining the situation to the young deputy. "Petrov's got a device that lets him summon pads whenever and wherever he wants." The regional minister paused briefly. "All of us do, actually, except for Justin..."

"Can I have one?" Justin quietly asked Petrov, glancing up at his uncle with a hopeful look in his eyes, his ears and tail perking.

"When yer dad says you're old enough," Petrov answered. Justin's tail and ears drooped back, knowing what the likely answer to _that_ would be.

Vincent shifted a little uncomfortably, his own tail drooping a little. Rich continued his instruction, "What would have happened if Petrov teleported from this room?"

Vincent thought for a few moments, then his ears and tail drooped even further. "Nothing," he whispered.

"Exactly," Rich exclaimed. "No alarms. No warnings. No logs. Nothing. Just gone."

Vincent hung his head briefly, thinking about the implications of that. Then he suddenly swung his head and glared at Petrov.

"Hey," Petrov quickly said, defending himself. "I'm still here, ain't I? I didn't take advantage of it." Then smiling at Vincent, his eyes an azure blue, he added, "This time..."

Vincent began to relax a little. He turned back to Rich.

Rich looked at him and nodded. "You've just learned a valuable lesson. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, sir," Vincent replied quietly, in a very contrite voice. Then, looking between Rich and Petrov, he tentatively asked, "Where did you get those?"

Ratchet grinned. Big Al seriously was going to have to open a shop on New Fastoon soon to keep up with the demand at this rate. "I'll tell ya later," was Petrov's reply.

Rich dismissed the teleporter pad, it vanished to wherever it came from. "Go back to wherever you were watching from. I'll keep an eye on them in here."

"And say 'hi' to whoever else is out there," Ratchet added, glancing quickly at Rich to see if he could catch a reaction on his friend's face. There was none.

"Yes, minister," Vincent said. Nodding to Rich, Vincent touched a crystal on his glove and vanished.

It was quiet for a while, except for Crystal's rhythmic snores coming from the basket. After a few seconds, Ratchet looked at the group and asked, "Who's hungry?"

"Me!" Justin shouted in reply, springing up from where he was sitting.

* * * * *

Ratchet ordered some pteradon, a salad and two gravity wells from Jacek's. The lombax stored the pteradon in the chiller for later; Reg and Melody would be arriving from their week long vacation on Saphria tonight, and this way there would be something for them to snack on. Setting up their meal in the dining area just off the family room, Rich grabbed the salad and the others shared the gravity wells, passing the time and talking among themselves.

Justin told Talwyn and Petrov about his lessons with the omniwrench and the comet strike. They were both impressed by his obvious progress, and also by how much he enjoyed the lessons. Ratchet also added how they had worked out a way to converse with Ember directly, using the combination of comm links and sensory distortion fields to overcome his hypersensitivity. Justin searched through his manifestor for the drone fragment he had saved, but could not find it. Talwyn tried to explain to him that, as a holosimulation, it was never really there to begin with, but the concept was still a little advanced for Justin. He eventually accepted Petrov's simpler, but technically less accurate, explanation - that the fragment disappeared like the holowrenches.

"Yeah," Rich said, a forkful of his salad poised in front of his muzzle. Staring at Petrov across the table, his eyes locked on Nichole's father's, he continued in a somewhat serious tone. "We've got to sit down and talk, Petrov. The way you get along with Justin and Crystal, and kits in general..." The lombax stopped for a moment, but then took a deep breath and pushed on. "Nichole's been dropping hints lately..." Petrov's eyes suddenly turned a very light, sunny blue and his muzzle cracked into a smile. "We wanted to wait a while, but I think we're ready. We're thinking of starting a family and having some kits of our own..." There were congratulations around the table. Ratchet and Talwyn were very pleased, of course, but Petrov was ecstatic. He didn't say anything, but his ears and tail were perked and his azure eyes sparkled. "I want to talk with you about what it was like with the twins, being a father and all." With a huge grin on his muzzle, he happily offered to help them in any way he could.

Ratchet received a call from Captain Waterman of The Wrench. He wanted to personally let the minister know that both Randall Bitstream and Rusty Pete were working out well as part of the engineering crew. For the most part... "Indeed, Minister. Mister Bitstream has a great deal of skill, considering his young age. I believe that he will become an exceptional encryption engineer, once he gets a bit of practical experience. As for Mister Ferroxide..." There was an unusual static sound as Waterman sighed over the link. "I was aware that he had a drinking problem, but I must admit I significantly underestimated its extent. Just over twelve days ago, Mister Ferroxide somehow accessed the fuel additive tanks." There was a brief pause. "By the time we discovered him, Mister Ferroxide had already consumed approximately thirty seven tankards of Express-go* and was singing shanties at top volume to any object that he encountered, sentient or otherwise..." Ratchet struggled to suppress his chuckle. Waterman added, in a slightly softer and somewhat wistful tone, "Aye. I hafta admit, 'twas a bit like the ol' days..." Ratchet gave in and started laughing over the link. Waterman continued, saying, "Obviously, Mister Ferroxide fully recovered; he is a remarkably resilient individual. But I have increased security on the Express-go, and I have set Mister Bitstream to the task of rotating the security protocols to prevent a similar occurrence. At least until we can provide Mister Ferroxide proper voice training and singing lessons."

(* - 'Express-go' was the name that Ratchet and his friends in the CALR finally agreed on for their fuel additive. It was a compromise on all sides, but turned out to be far more marketable than any other name they considered.)

After they had finished their late lunch, Ratchet and Talwyn cleared up the debris. Petrov returned to the family room with Justin, telling the kit a story about his adventures with Reg while they were at the Academy. Rich followed, both to keep an eye on Petrov and to look in on Crystal. Ratchet and Talwyn both watched as he peered through the force field, looking at the infant as she slept with a slight grin on his muzzle and a bit of a gleam in his eyes.

Ratchet heard a soft chime from the main entrance to the suite. Moving quickly to the door, he listened to the other side (silence) before cautiously opening it. The cleaning drones were gone. There was not a single trace of water, mud or any other foreign matter near the entrance to the suite. Justin's running shoes had been cleaned, dried, deodorized and brightened; they had been placed precisely (at least to Ratchet's eye, he did not bother measuring) one centicubit from the wall, one centicubit from the door, perfectly aligned with the pattern on the ornamental stone.

The lombax chuckled slightly and looked up into Deputy Tim Resonance's eyes. Tim was Ratchet's official watchbax, and they had become friends during the minister's stay on New Fastoon. Deputy Resonance's arrival was not unexpected; Tim was going to be driving one of the land wanderers for Clank this evening. "Hey, Tim," Ratchet said casually, bending down and picking up Justin's running shoes.

"Hey, Ratchet," Tim answered. "I know it's a little early, but I thought we'd better start getting ready."

Ratchet nodded. Sundown was not that far away at this point. "Come on in," he said. "The others are in the family room. Go on through."

"Thanks!" Tim walked through the door, and Ratchet closed it behind him.

The lombax put Justin's running shoes on the floor near the exterior door then turned. Talwyn and Tim had already moved out of the prep center, the sterilizer was running and everything appeared to be in order. Ratchet moved forward into the family room and into a rather intriguing conversation. Rich began interrogating Ratchet as soon as he entered. "So, what's with Nick?" he asked.

Ratchet looked warily around the room. Rich looked at him, as though expecting him to know what the conversation was all about. Talwyn and Petrov were both staring at him, shaking their heads slightly. Tim kept glancing around at the others in his room, as though trying to put the pieces together to some puzzle. Justin was playing with a small display pad, not seeming to pay much attention to the conversation.

Ratchet shrugged and very honestly responded, "What'd'ya mean?"

"You know perfectly well what I mean," Rich continued, his voice carefully probing to see if he could uncover any information from the obviously off-balanced minister. "All these trips back and forth to the Apogee Station." Ratchet's eyes widened, but he tried as hard as he could to keep his ears and tail neutral. "Tim just told me that he requested another trip. At this point, I'm tempted to just lend him Talwyn's glove so he'll stop botherin' me." Rich gestured towards Petrov and Talwyn. "They won't say anything and neither will Nichole."

"And you think I will?" Ratchet asked, as innocently as he could.

Tim looked at Ratchet. His eyes suddenly widened and he gasped, "No way! _Nick?_"

Ratchet didn't say anything, but Tim looked back to Petrov and Talwyn. Petrov nodded, once.

Rich immediately realized the situation. "_Jaz?_" he said in shock.

Ratchet merely smiled in response.

Rich was still stunned. "When did this happen?"

"It hasn't yet," Petrov said. "It's not official, but it's really just a matter of time."

"But how?" Rich continued. "I didn't even think they knew each other before the virus outbreak."

"They didn't," Ratchet said. Looking into Rich's eyes, he asked, "What was the first thing that happened when you saw Nichole?"

Rich chuckled a little as he thought back. "I was kind of out of it at the time. The triage bot had pumped me full of pain blockers. I remember looking up at her, seeing her eyes turn as yellow as sunlight, and thinking to myself that we'd be bonded someday." The regional minister laughed. "When I woke up, I remember looking back on the whole thing as a byproduct of the drugs. But I kept finding excuses to go back and see her..." Rich's voice trailed off. He looked over to Petrov and chuckled. "I guess it runs in the family, huh?"

"Yup," Petrov answered, a wistful smile forming on his muzzle.

"We've already begun planning a surprise trip to Saphria for them," Talwyn said. "Once they announce, we will be sending them for a weeklong neobond trip."

"It's kinda early for that, isn't it?" Tim asked. "I mean, I've known Nick for a while. He's always been a confirmed single. And from what little I know of Ambassador Parallax..."

"Trust me," Rich broke in. "You haven't been their travel agent. They're hooked."

Justin looked up from the display pad he had been working with. It had a lombax language lesson paused on its screen. "Uncle Petrov," he asked in a very serious voice, "is Uncle Nick going to get bonded?"

Petrov nodded at the kit. "We think so, Justin."

"Oh." Justin paused for a moment. "Does Mom and Dad know?"

"Yes, Justin," Talwyn offered. "Your mom and dad noticed as soon as Uncle Nick came back with The Wrench that first time."

"Oh." Justin nodded. "Okay."

"Don't tell Uncle Nick," Petrov said very seriously to Justin. "He hasta find out fer himself."

"Okay," Justin promised and returned to his lessons.

Tim examined a chronometer mounted on the wall above the breakfast nook. Through the window to the east, they could see the sun starting to get low on the horizon. "Ratchet," he said, "we'd better start getting ready."

Ratchet nodded. With a glance and a nod to Talwyn, Ratchet left the family room, passed through the prep center and breakfast nook, heading towards the sleeping chambers and bathroom. Closing the bathroom door behind him, Ratchet manifested the spare 'Jeeves' costume that he had, uh, borrowed from Holostar. He was sure that they wouldn't miss it, but looking at it in the illumination filaments, could not understand how they came up with such a gaudy design. Shaking his head slightly, he changed from his comfortable street cloths into the costume. It fit very well (having been custom tailored for his somewhat smaller frame) but it was still fairly uncomfortable to wear with all of the gold threadwork and ornamentation on it. Placing the cap over his neural matrix, Ratchet looked at himself in the old fashioned, antique mirror (an optically clear glass plate with some kind of reflective metal alloy coating the inner surface), shook his head at how silly he looked, and took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He thought back to how he had only taken the part to earn a few extra bolts and because Clank was his friend. The lombax suspected that Clank had somehow gotten him the role in the series to give him something to do while Clank was busy recording. (Ratchet was correct.) Ratchet would not miss his career at Holostar, and hoped that this would be the last time he ever wore this wretched thing. But it was for Clank, and that is what made it worthwhile.

Ratchet returned to the family room, and the gathered lombaxes hushed at his arrival. All eyes stared at the minister in the rather excessive red and gold suit. There were a few muffled chuckles breaking the stillness. "Go ahead," Ratchet said heavily. "Jus' let it out before ya hurt yerselves..."

The reactions were immediate.

Talwyn just stared at Ratchet, shaking her head. She quietly said, "You look ridiculous..."

Petrov's chuckle became a full laugh. He could not stop. Eventually, the retired general had to look away, wiping tears from his eyes as he fought to get control over himself.

Tim kept looking Ratchet over from tip to tuft. He did not laugh or say anything out loud at first, but his wide smile and twinkling eyes betrayed his intense amusement. Finally, the deputy muttered, "And I thought Rich's jammies looked stupid..."

Rich tried to keep a straight face. With only the slightest hint of a grin on his muzzle, he said, "Please tell me you'll be wearing that later when Nichole gets here. She's gotta see this..."

Ratchet let them have their fun, and then turned toward Justin. The kit was looking up at Ratchet in shock, his eyes wide and from the look on his face, he did not know quite what to make of his Uncle's outfit. Ratchet smiled at him. "So, what do you think, Justin?"

Justin looked at Ratchet, uttered a single, "Uh," and began looking around the room for help. The kit met Petrov's eyes.

Petrov smiled and nodded to the kit. "Go ahead, Justin. Tell him the truth."

The kit nodded to Petrov, looked Ratchet straight in the eyes and said, "You look silly, Uncle Ratchet."

Ratchet began to chuckle a bit. "Yeah, Justin," he said kindly. "I do. But it's for Clank, so it's worth it."

Rich walked over to where Ratchet was standing. "I've got two land wanderers being delivered by teleport in a few minutes. Tim will be driving one; Clank, Venus, you and I will be in the other. This way I'll be able to keep an eye on you."

"I'd better get changed," Tim said wandering towards the prep center. "I'll be right back."

Ratchet just looked at Rich. "Can'tcha just let it go fer one night? I promise I won't try t' escape..."

"No, Ratchet," Rich said with a note of finality in his voice. Then he chuckled. "And that's really just part of it anyway. This is going to be way too much fun to miss out on. And it's for Clank. Don't worry - we'll announce ourselves as Clank's bodyguards. We'll just go with you to the dome and wait with you. It beats waiting by yourself..."

"Yeah," Ratchet admitted. "Yer right. Thanks."

"Venus knows that you're on the council, right?" Rich asked. "I mean, not like the Solana President... Phyronix... She'll know that this is all..."

"A setup?" Ratchet interrupted. "Yeah. She knows. We told 'er t' expect somethin' special, but we didn't go inta detail."

At that point, Tim emerged from the bathroom and began to walk towards them. The lombax was dressed in a black suit, boots, gloves and jacket over a white shirt. He wore a thin black tie around his neck and a maroon sash running from his right shoulder to his left hip. At his right hip, Tim had a black holster with some kind of weapon it in that Ratchet did not recognize. Tim was also wearing a narrow black visor over his eyes.

Ratchet's jaw dropped in amazement. "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Pretty cool, huh?" Tim said happily, perfectly at easy in the rather strange clothing. He lifted his arms slightly and spun as though modeling the outfit.

"You look like a third rate holovid character," Ratchet said.

"Then he should fit right it," Rich said, smiling at the pair. "My turn..." Rich walked toward the bathroom.

"What's with the visor?" Petrov asked, touching a gloved finger to his temple.

"Optical enhancement," Tim replied. He made a slight adjustment to a control on the visor. "And it's even got IR and UV bands. They're great for night stalking." Tim glanced at Ratchet, but suddenly looked away. It was a rather strange reaction. Tim kept glancing back at Ratchet every few seconds as though curious about something.

Rich emerged from the bathroom in an identical black suit and visor. He took one look at Ratchet and mumbled, "Ratchet, did you know that the dye Holostar uses is UV active?"

The minister looked at himself. There was still a slight trace of red in his tuft, but not very much. "No, I didn't..." he said.

"Maybe Holostar got them surplus from a machine shop..." Tim offered.

Rich nodded to Tim. "It looks like he got caught stealing bags of bolts..." Turning back to the minister, Rich removed his visor and offered it to Ratchet. "Take a look. Close your eyes, put these on and see for yourself..."

Ratchet took the visor from Rich and put it on. Opening his eyes, he glanced down at his tail. His tuft was glowing brightly in the UV spectrum, and his visible fur was streaked with traces of the dye. Although the visible red pigment was water soluble, it appeared that the dye contained a UV component that was not. Ratchet shook his head, sighed and returned the visor to Rich. He was beginning to regret having gotten Rich and Tim involved in his plan.

Talwyn, sensing Ratchet's frustration, walked up to the lombax and kissed him lightly on the side of the muzzle. "It's for a good cause," she whispered. "And it'll be over soon."

"I know," he whispered to Talwyn. Looking over to Rich and Tim, he said in a louder voice, "Just shoot me now and get it over with..."

* * * * *

The rain had stopped and the sun was just touching the eastern horizon on New Fastoon when Tim, Rich and Ratchet emerged from the main entrance of the Solstice House. Two very large land vehicles were parked outside, their long aerodynamic lines gracefully curved along the length of their passenger compartments. The sleek outer metallic skin had been painted with an iridescent black, but in the fading sunlight reflected back a glittering spectrum of colors along their smooth surfaces. The vehicles hovered silently on antigrav generators, at the moment floating a mere centicubit above the planet. This height was actually preset, and while in motion the vehicles would automatically adjust to maintain a constant distance of ten cubits above whatever surface they traveled over. While it was a slow and highly inefficient means of transportation in an age of teleportation and space travel, the land wanderer was still considered one of the most luxurious ways of getting from one point on the planet's surface to another. The Lombax Central Council maintained a small number of these craft, primarily for escorting diplomatic emissaries around New Fastoon and for providing tours of the planet to visiting dignitaries. Well, that was the official reason; unofficially, they were a lot of fun to maintain and, because they hovered so low to the ground, thrilling to race.

Tim proceeded to the front driver's compartment of the first vehicle and waited. Ratchet moved to stand near the rear passenger compartment of the second vehicle while Rich circled around to it's driver's compartment. When they were all in position, Ratchet called out, "Let's do this..."

Rich nodded and manifested Talwyn's door glove. Aiming for a point a few cubits away from Ratchet, he concentrated on Clank and fired the device. Four tiny spheres shot forward and positioned themselves in the formation a small rectangle, with the base hovering a few centicubits from the ground. Energy filaments shot between the spheres, stabilizing and growing brighter. The rectangle shimmered slightly and the amplification matrix on the door glove began to glow. A dimensional portal formed within the rectangle of energy, and Ratchet could see Clank and Venus waiting just outside his trailer on Holostar Studio's primary lot. Clank was still wearing his Secret Agent Clank tuxedo attachments, while Venus was dressed in a flowing gown of fine interlocking silver rings that shimmered as she moved. Venus's eyes brightened as the portal formed.

Ratchet stepped forward to the rectangle. Extending his gloved hand, he offered it to Venus. "Good evening. Watch your step," he said.

Venus took his hand and stepped through the portal. She was taken aback for a second and spent a few moments looking around at the Solstice House, vehicles and the unfamiliar stars becoming visible overhead. "Welcome to New Fastoon, Ma'am," Ratchet said in a formal voice, then turned to offer his hand to Clank. The little robot chuckled and hopped through the portal unassisted. Ratchet put his hand on Clank's shoulder. The portal began to deteriorate, the energy making up the frame weakening until it could no longer support the structure. The doorway between the dimensions winked out of existence.

Ratchet turned and opened the land wanderer door for Venus. Her optics were taking in everything and finally settled on Rich in his black costume, standing by the driver's door. "We are Clank's security detail, Ma'am," he explained. "If you would care to have a seat, everything has been prepared for you."

Venus let out a light laugh, the sound of clear bells on a cold winter's day. "Of course," she said very politely in a highly educated, cultured voice. She chuckled slightly as she sat in the plush passenger cabin. Ratchet bowed slightly to her and, after making sure she was comfortable, closed the door. He and Clank then circled around to the other side of the vehicle.

"This is extremely embarrassing," Clank said in a quiet voice. "Venus is fully aware of your role in the lombax government and of the security restrictions you endure."

"I know," Ratchet answered as they reached the other side of the vehicle and the second passenger door. "But ya gotta admit, it's kinda cool." Ratchet opened the door for Clank.

Clank paused for a moment in thought and then answered, "Indeed, Ratchet. It is 'cool' - in a somewhat inexplicable manner."

Clank hopped into the land wanderer and Ratchet closed the passenger door. Looking over to Rich, the regional minister shook his head. "I'm driving," Rich said. Ratchet's ears drooped slightly and, grumbling a bit, the lombax circled the vehicle again and entered the driver's compartment on the co-driver's side.

Rich smiled, turned toward Tim standing at the first vehicle and nodded. Tim and Rich then entered the land wanderers and started their vehicles. The antigrav units energized and the wanderers climbed into the air. Ratchet looked back through the dividing frame that separated the driver's chamber from the passenger's luxury suite. Clank and Venus were comfortably sitting in the rear, talking to each other and sampling a small amount of isotopes that Jacek had provided as an appetizer. "The travel time will be about an hour," Ratchet told the couple. "We've got a full hyperband uplink fer your amusement."

"Thank you, Ratchet," Venus said. Her voice had been classically trained by the best in the holovid industry, and was very musical in tone.

"Indeed," Clank added. "If you do not object, Ratchet, Venus and I would like a little privacy. I would like to show her some of the landmarks and constellations on New Fastoon."

"Of course, sir," Ratchet said, smiling. Ratchet turned back to the panel in front of him and pressed a small black button. A sensory distortion force field sprang up between the two compartments, completely isolating the passenger compartment from the driver's stations. The lombax leaned back in the co-driver's seat and removed his Jeeves cap. He looked over to Rich in the driver's seat. "Here we go..."

Rich nodded. Activating his comm link, he contacted Tim. "Tim? Rich. Let's go."

Rich linked his driver's automation system with Tim's so that the two land stalkers would proceed in formation. Tim's destination had already been preset in luxury cruise mode - there was little else for them to do as the land wanderers sped forward at just under the speed of sound. Rich looked over to Ratchet, and at the tiny display panel that showed a video link from the security camera in the passenger compartment. Venus and Clank were relaxing and enjoying the ride, with Clank pointing to various sights and landmarks along their journey. "So... That's Venus," he began. Ratchet nodded. "She seems very nice."

"She is," Ratchet answered. "When I first started with Holostar, she went outta her way t' make sure I was comfortable." The lombax chuckled a little. "I'm not sure how much Clank had t' do with it, but it was really nice of her."

"It's a shame that she's tied to Holostar and that contract."

"She's okay with it," Ratchet replied. "For her, it's a short term deal. It just seems long t' us. She 'n Clank've been seein' each other since the series first started. But she's gotta stay on Holostar's grounds. As it was, it took a lotta convincing t' get Lemming t' sign off on this trip. They're real paranoid about their stars."

Rich turned to Ratchet and smiled. "Even more than the LDM is about their Councilors?"

Ratchet laughed. He thought about it for a moment, and responded, "No. They never made 'er wear a tracer..."

Rich laughed in turn. After a few moments, he told Ratchet, "By the way, I checked in with Wallace. Zephyr and Cronk are back on New Fastoon. Doug brought them over about an hour ago; you were getting dressed at the time. They'll be at Reg's tonight in case we need help."

"Good," Ratchet nodded, the smile fading from his muzzle. "We might need it. It's obvious he doesn't know, but I've gotta really bad feeling he's NOT gonna like it."

"He'll thank us later," Rich said, a note of confidence in his voice. "I'm sure of it."

Ratchet was not as certain. "Maybe..."

* * * * *

The minutes and the kilocubits passed very quickly. Ratchet and Rich chatted about some of the more mundane aspects of New Fastoon. Rich promised to give Ratchet some advanced combustor marksmanship lessons in exchange for trying out his RYNO. Ratchet filled Rich in on some of the new battle simulations that he and Colonel Caliber had been working on for the dome.

Rich shuddered slightly with Ratchet's description: he knew that the minister had spent the last month working on a new series of fitness routines and training simulations, but from what Ratchet was describing, he began wondering if anyone (other than the minister himself, of course) would be capable of navigating the course successfully. Ratchet promised to demonstrate the program for the regional ministers and the Lombax Defense Ministry once everything was completed, but that it was still weeks away at this point. Rich breathed a little easier realizing that he had a bit of time before he had to worry about it.

Every now and then, Ratchet would glance at the security vidlink, just to make sure Clank was okay. It seemed as though he and Venus were having an excellent time so far.

Ratchet looked through the primary viewport and saw the dome as a tiny speck way off in the distance. But it was still too early. "Rich," he asked, "how far away are we?"

"We're still got a good half-hour at this point, Ratchet," Rich replied.

"I can see the dome already..." Ratchet said, a little bit of awe in his voice.

Rich chuckled. "What did you think, that the dome wouldn't be visible half a sector away? That thing's huge!"

Ratchet nodded. Very quietly, he muttered, "I'm so used t' teleportin'; I fergot how big it was from outside..." The lombax glanced at the panel in front of Rich; they were easily traveling 44 kilocubits per minute, very nearly the speed of sound.

As the minutes and the kilocubits flew by, the dome steadily grew larger and larger in their viewport. Eventually they arrived at the primary entrance to the structure. The land wanderers gracefully slowed and came to a full stop in front of the rather small and little used exterior doorway. Because most of the visitors to the dome and to the various facilities arrived via teleport, very few people (lombaxes, robots or guests) used this entrance; Reg Solstice and his family were probably the only ones that used it with any regularity. But because of the land wanderers, for this situation it seemed most fitting - once inside, they planned to teleport into the dome as normal.

Once the land wanderers came to a complete stop and settled to hover a centicubit above the paved reception area, Ratchet and Rich opened their doors and exited the vehicle. Ratchet looked around and was once again struck by the sheer magnitude of the dome from the outside; it truly was a spectacular sight with the interlocking reinforced alloy panels and support struts, configured in a complex geometric array of metal, polymer and instastone. Tim and Rich left the vehicles and moved to stand at either side of the entrance, looking very formal in their dark suits as they surveyed the area. Ratchet moved to the passenger compartment and opened the door for Clank.

Clank climbed out of the land wanderer and stood next to Ratchet as the lombax closed the door behind him. The small robot chuckled. "You were correct in your assessment, Ratchet," he began as they circled around the luxury vehicle. "While Venus is fully aware that this situation is contrived, we are both enjoying the illusion immensely. Thank you."

"Yer welcome," Ratchet said quietly as they approached Venus's door. "I'm jus' glad yer both havin' fun." The lombax reached for the hatch and opened the door for Venus. Offering his gloved hand, Ratchet assisted the graceful robot out of the vehicle. After she was on her feet, Venus smiled at the lombax, nodded, and removed her hand from his, linking it instead with Clank's offered arm. Ratchet moved ahead of them by about two paces. "If you will please follow me," he said, again in as formal a voice as he could do given the circumstances, "a special table has been prepared in your honor."

Ratchet led the way for Clank and Venus up the short walk to the dome entrance. Tim and Rich, standing on either side, opened both of the double doors and held them open for the lombax and the two robots. Ratchet merely shook his head slightly in amusement as he passed the LDM deputies, walking into the stillness that was the outermost service corridor surrounding the circumference of the dome. The corridor was lit by tiny illumination filaments widely spaced along the pathway overhead, and while they produced enough light to see, they also created the illusion of a series of bright cones receding into the darkness, casting sharp shadows on the instastone floor and walls surrounding them.

After walking approximately ten cubits down the corridor, Ratchet stopped and turned to face the robots. With his right hand, he gestured to a small alcove build into the hallway. Inside the alcove, a large teleporter pad, big enough to handle at least twenty people or palate loads of supply crates, glowed and vented a small amount of charged plasma. Clank and Venus came to a halt in front of the lombax and the pad.

"If you would join me," Ratchet said as he stepped onto the teleporter pad. "Your table is ready." Clank and Venus, arm in arm, stepped onto the teleporter pad with him. Ratchet activated it using his neural matrix.

The three of them materialized in the middle of a wide open area, completely dark except for a spinning array of microcubit lanterns simulating a galactic spiral hovering over a small dining table. The overhead light of the galaxy (a gift from Nicholas) illuminated the place settings, bright red cloth and pewter grey plates and serving utensils set in front of the two chairs. A small ornamental array of local blooms, including a single thorntree spike, was tastefully arranged in the center of the round table's surface, low enough so that it would not block the diners' view of each other.

Venus gasped slightly, a strangely musical sound, as she gazed at the scene arrayed in front of her. Clank chuckled quietly. Ratchet moved forward and pulled one of the chairs from the table. Looking over to Venus, the lombax smiled slightly, bowing his head to her. The robot nodded, moving gracefully across the room to sit in the offered chair. Ratchet pushed it back in towards the table, struggling a little bit as he did so - the alloy making up Venus's metal chassis was a lot heavier than it looked. Clank, meanwhile, went to his seat and sat down on his own. Ratchet still moved towards him and pushed his chair in anyway. The robots looked into each others' optics as the lombax quietly spoke. "We have prepared a special menu for you tonight. If you'll excuse me, I'll bring you your appetizers." Neither Clank, nor Venus looked away from each other, or acknowledged Ratchet in any way. The lombax shrugged slightly to himself, bowed, and backed away.

Once the lombax had left the pool of light cast by the overhead display, Clank smiled at Venus. "I have devised something special for you for this evening," he said. Looking around the darkened dome, Clank silently signaled the control computer to activate his program. The galactic display darkened and shut down, the lanterns returning to their storage container. But the shimmering crystal curtain that made up the hologrid matrix sprang to life, replicating a barren lunar surface on the floor of the dome and the starfield from Holostar's perspective above them. But the stars were dim and dull compared to the random seeming flares and filigrees of a simulated aurora, dancing above their table in a flare of red, green and blue as elements in the atmosphere were stimulated by an artificial solar wind.

Venus's eyes were pulled upward by the display, and in a very quiet voice she whispered to Clank, "It is magnificent!"

* * * * *

"They look like they're havin' fun," Jacek said in a somewhat muted voice.

Ratchet looked up and nodded to the lombax standing on his left. Jacek was a little shorter than Petrov was, but he still towered over Ratchet and was just as big and burly as the retired general. In Jacek's case, however, it was not all muscle; the years of being a professional chef had taken their toll on the older lombax, and much of the weight he carried these days was merely fat. "Occupational hazard," Jacek would sometimes joke. Not that he was as out of shape as Doctor Phage - Jacek was still extremely strong and could easily handle himself in the somewhat physically strenuous career he had chosen.

Jacek was dressed in his traditional chef's outfit, consisting of very loose and airy white pants and an equally loose and puffy long sleeved shirt. The fabric was designed with high power and extra efficient autocleaning and autoclimate systems, but it was also thin and almost gauze like, with the gold of Jacek's fur faintly showing through the pristine white cloth, giving it a very slightly yellow tinge. His sleeves were tucked into the rather thin cloth gloves that he wore, and his pants were long enough to cover his ankles just above the cut of his rather well broken in running shoes. The cuffs of both his shirt and pants were elasticized, tightly fitting against his wrists and ankles.

One very unusual aspect about Jacek's clothing was the fact that there was no tail hole; Jacek always tucked his tail down the inseam of his right trouser leg, and the bulge caused by Jacek's tail tuft around his right ankle always reminded Ratchet of the tracer he had to wear when he first came to New Fastoon. At first, Ratchet had thought that this was just a personal idiosyncrasy on Jacek's part. But when Ratchet had finally given in to curiosity and asked, the chef had explained to him that it was actually a necessary part of his profession.

"Didja ever get fur in yer food?" the chef asked Ratchet.

Ratchet shook his head 'no'. Jacek's restaurants were very popular, and the minister had never heard of a single complaint uttered against them.

"This 's t' keep it that way!" Jacek said, pulling slightly at the loose shirt. "If I wanna keep my customers, I gotta wear it. Keeps the fur in. Same wi' the tail."

Ratchet thought about it a second and nodded. Lombax fur gets everywhere, and the thought of a lombax shedding while cooking was not a pleasant one. "Makes sense," he said. "Shed fur drives Talwyn crazy!"

Jacek looked at him a little strangely, as though not quite understanding. "But she's got fur... long stuff... that little patch on the top of her head!"

Ratchet chuckled. "Her hair?" Jacek nodded. Laughing quietly to himself, Ratchet's voice dropped to a low conspiratorial tone, as though he was being monitored. "Trust me, she doesn't like it when she sheds that either. She's real sensitive about it. Sometimes I've gotta get forgive-me-blooms just t' cheer her up; not that I did anything wrong, but just t' take 'er mind off it."

Jacek nodded, smiling, and tactfully let the topic drop.

Ratchet also learned that Jacek was one of the very few older lombaxes on New Fastoon that had not experienced the Cragmite War first hand. Jacek had been the private chef for the Tachyon family at the time of Percival's initial betrayal. He had been working in the Tachyon ancestral house on New Fastoon, preparing for a dinner party the family was planning, when Percival first attacked and decimated the entire Tachyon household. Jacek was not aware of what happened until he contacted the ministry on Fastoon when he could not reach the overdue family and guests. When he was told what happened, Jacek wanted to immediately join the others on Fastoon, but was asked to stay where he was by Colonel Caliber, at least until the situation improved. Sadly, things merely deteriorated, and Jacek was eventually asked to meet with Petrov, Ember Caliber and Zeke Wavelength at the Neutrino Estate for the migration and census. While Ratchet knew that Petrov deeply hated Percival Tachyon and the Drophyds for what they did to the lombaxes and to Cynthia, the minister realized that there was one lombax that might have hated Percival specifically as much or maybe even more than Petrov did. Jacek didn't show it often, but when he first learned who Ratchet was and what became of self-proclaimed emperor, the chef let loose a string of extremely vulgar and violent profanity that made Ratchet cringe. Since then, Ratchet was always treated exceedingly well by the chef, and they became friends.

"Yeah," Ratchet answered, looking out over the dome from the observation window in Jacek's latest restaurant. "They seem t' be havin' a good time."

"Good!" Jacek said, nodding his head slightly. He sighed softly to himself, then manifested a large, wide brimmed cap, with very fine netting suspended from it. Putting the cap on his head over his thin neural matrix cap, Jacek carefully tucked the netting into the collar of his shirt. Once that was in place, he turned to the extremely large portable prep center behind him, laying out and plating the 'food' for Venus and Clank. Ratchet watched closely; he was able to recognize a few of the components, and the catalytic containment field that probably held some kind of dessert isotopes. But other than that...

"Cookin' for robots is tough," Jacek continued. "Ya can't taste, ya can't smell. Yer jus' goin' by feel." The chef turned to Ratchet, two plates held in either hand. "I can't fig're how Nick does it..."

"Practice," Ratchet said, smiling slightly as he took the two dishes from the chef. "From what he told me, over half his engineers are robotic..."

"What's he up to these days?" Jacek asked. "I haven't heard a peep from 'm since last planetfall. Usually he keeps in touch."

Ratchet shook his head slightly, smiling. "Oh, I'm sure he'll catch up when he can," the lombax said, avoiding the issue of Nicholas and Jasmine. Jacek would probably find out for himself the first time he saw Nick. "He's been real busy with the Embassy lately."

"Well, tell that furball t' call me," Jacek replied, somewhat gruffly in a slightly emotional voice. "I wanna see what 'e's up to." Jacek paused for a moment, trying to mask his emotion, then continued. "'n I wanna find out where t' get more o' the spices from the last batch. That powdered emeral was unbelievable!"

Ratchet thought back on that batch of spices and from when he watched Nick cooking on The Wrench. There was some green stuff that he used... "Is 'emeral' a bright green powder?"

Jacek nodded. "You tried it?"

Ratchet nodded in return. "I think so. Nicholas used a little on something he made when me and Clank were on The Wrench. All I know is it hissed when it got hot."

"That's the stuff," Jacek said. "Subtle, but it makes a huge difference!" Looking into Ratchet's eyes, he quietly muttered, "When ya hear from Nick..."

"I will," Ratchet interrupted, nodding slightly. "Don't worry - he's fine. Just... uh... 'busy'..." Ratchet lifted the two plates in his hands slightly - they were getting a little heavy. "Lemme drop these off."

"Okay," Jacek said. "I'm gonna go back t' the kitchen fer a bit. If ya need anything, call me."

"Thanks again, Jacek. For everything."

"My pleasure," he said. Jacek turned and walked through a doorway back toward the periphery of the dome, where the support services and prep centers were located.

Ratchet turned, glancing through the overlooking observation window. With a grin on his muzzle, he summoned a teleport pad and transported to the floor of the dome, just out of the light of the overhead displays. He quickly moved forward to the table, presenting the items and describing them as Jacek had coached him, then after refilling Venus's coolant glass, bowed and backed away again. Once he was clear of the light once more, he teleported back to the observation deck, this time to the suite where Rich and Tim were camped out, waiting.

"You missed your calling, Ratchet," Rich joked, looking up at Ratchet from where he was sprawled in one of the seats in the second row of Ratchet's private luxury observation booth. "You're a natural..."

Ratchet glared at Rich, a somewhat evil smirk growing on his muzzle. Okay... If Rich wants to play... "Speaking of naturals," Ratchet started in an innocent voice, "I've been hearin' that a lot about you too lately..." Ratchet deliberately left it at that. It was something he had picked up from Talwyn; any time she wanted to bait him or lure him into a discussion, she would say something open-ended like that and wait for Ratchet's natural lombax curiosity to force him to ask for more information. It was frustrating, inevitable, but highly effective, especially now that Ratchet was learning to use it himself.

It didn't take long. Rich straightened up in the chair and stared at Ratchet. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Where?"

Ratchet looked over at Tim sitting a few seats down, grinned at him slightly and met Rich's gaze. "In the council chamber," Ratchet answered.

_That_ got Rich's attention. He sat up straight on the edge of his seat, his hand trembling slightly and his eyes nervously moving from Ratchet's to examine the room around them. "Yer bluffin'..." the Regional Minister whispered.

"Seriously," Ratchet said, pushing the point home a little deeper. "Spiff's gonna get his parole soon. He's worried everythin'll fall apart while he's gone. He's been mentionin' yer name as a possible replacement."

Rich shuddered. Then he closed his eyes for a second, took a really deep breath, then stared into Ratchet's eyes, his own hardening significantly. "If they try," Rich began, a somewhat dangerous note in his voice, "I'll make 'em regret it!" He looked around briefly, then returned his gaze to Ratchet. "You know me - I'll find a way. If you think the tracers or the guards were bad..."

"Relax," Ratchet said, realizing that he had gotten more than he bargained for. "That's why I warned ya. It's just talk. I'm sure they'll see reason..." Ratchet thought for a moment. "Who else d' ya think? If not you. Gimme some names that I can bring with me..."

Rich took a deep breath again, calming down significantly. Ratchet was right - he did warn him, and there were still at least two months until Spiff was paroled. They had time... Rich looked down through the observation port and an idea struck him. "What about Clank?" he asked.

Ratchet glanced down through the window as well, met Rich's eyes and shook his head. "No way," Ratchet said. "He'd kill me! Literally!"

Rich thought quickly. "Well, what about Melody?"

Ratchet gasped. "Are you outta yer mind?" the lombax exclaimed. "She'd make me suffer first, _then_ kill me."

"No, seriously Ratchet," Rich said. "Think about it... Who better to fill in for Spiff than his sister? She's not into economics or law, but she's a fantastic pilot and navigator..."

"I'll tell ya what," Ratchet interrupted. "I'll let _you_ tell 'er." Rich's ears suddenly drooped. "Tell 'er you didn't wanna be on the council, so ya gave me her name instead..."

"I'm not that stupid," Rich said firmly.

Ratchet began to chuckle slightly. Rich, sensing that maybe he was safe for now, began to do so also. Their eyes met and they both turned to stare at Tim. "Don't even think about it..." Tim said warily. Ratchet and Rich laughed even harder.

"Seriously," Rich finally said, "If I think of anyone, I'll let you know..."

"It's okay," Ratchet began. "I didn't like it at first, but ya can get a lotta good stuff done too." The lombax sighed to himself. "Problem is ya get rusty... Courtney showed me that..."

"Is that why the training courses have been impossible lately?" Tim asked, sitting up from where he was reclining in his chair.

"They're not that bad..." Ratchet muttered defensively.

"Wanna bet?" Tim countered.

* * * * *

Tim, Rich and Ratchet watched from the observation lounge as Clank and Venus finished their 'dinner'. The lombaxes chatted about everything from holovid games, to the latest council news, to plant growth *. But after a little while, they saw Clank and Venus begin to finish up their 'dinner', clearing their plates and talking quietly with each other, laughing on occasion. Ratchet took that as his cue to check in on his charges.

(* - The minister explained that after his latest trip to Saphria, he and Talwyn had brought some sand back with them and used it as a fertilizer for his potted thorntrees. When the spikes on the trees turned a brilliant red, Ratchet sent a sample of the sand to the CALR for them to investigate its chemical composition; to see if it could be used with other agricultural products or if it was specific to thorntrees. Either way, the simple note that had been left for the couple, instructing them to 'sprinkle some sand around your thorntrees' roots', had opened up a whole series of questions in Ratchet's mind and in the minds of a lot of other lombaxes, especially the bunch of organic chemists in the CALR Ratchet had approached for the research project. Reg had promised to bring some more sand back with him for further analysis.)

The lombax teleported down to the lunar simulation on dome floor. He waited in the darkness for a few minutes, until there was a lull in the conversation. Ratchet knew that Clank could probably hear him, but that was okay - he did not want to intrude until they were ready for him. When there was a suitable pause, Ratchet moved from the shadows into the light, and began collecting the dishes and containers from the table. As he did so, Venus looked up at him, smiling. "Thank you, Ratchet," she said in her musical voice.

"You're welcome," Ratchet said, nodding slightly to her.

"Ratchet," Clank began. "I believe that we are finished here." Clank looked over at Venus and she nodded. "Would you please have Tim and Rich bring the land wanderers around to the main entrance? Venus and I would like to enjoy a leisurely journey back to the suite."

Ratchet smiled, glancing quickly up the side of the dome and knowing that Rich and Tim heard the request themselves; they were probably already teleporting to the vehicles. "As you wish," Ratchet answered.

The lombax carried the plates to a temporary storage bin located outside of the circle of light. He knew that while the table and place settings were all part of the holosimulation and would vanish when the program was ended, the plates and components were real, having been produced by Jacek for this occasion. Ratchet knew that the chef would teleport the gear back to his restaurant when he had time. He quickly returned to the table, pulling the chair out for Venus. Once the robots were standing by the table and ready to depart, Ratchet summoned a teleporter pad with his neural matrix. Concentrating on the main entrance, he activated the device.

The trio materialized outside the dome. The land wanderers were still where they had left them, with Tim already standing by the first vehicle, Rich at the second. Ratchet opened the door for Venus once again. She climbed in and Ratchet closed the door. Circling around the vehicle with Clank, Ratchet was surprised at how quiet the robot was. "Is everything okay, Clank?" Ratchet asked, breaking the stillness.

Clank looked up at him. "Yes, Ratchet," he said, although his voice seemed slightly distracted. "Thank you."

The lombax opened the door and Clank hopped in quickly. Ratchet closed the door and went around to the driver's compartment, once again settling into the co-driver's seat. No sooner had he climbed into the vehicle and strapped himself in, Ratchet heard a voice from the luxury passenger suite behind him. "Ratchet," Venus said. "Would you kindly engage the privacy screen? I would like to spend some time alone with Clank, if you do not mind."

Ratchet turned back to look at the pair. The robots were arm-in-arm in the center of the comfortable cabin. "Certainly, ma'am," Ratchet said, a grin creeping onto his muzzle. He touched the control and the opaque energy field engaged. Ratchet turned to Rich. "Let's go home," he muttered.

Rich contacted Tim, linked systems and the land wanderers sped away, accelerating quickly to the speed of sound. Because the land wanderers were set to automatic control, no exterior lighting was in use. Ratchet found it somewhat thrilling, shooting forward blindly into the night. He only wished that the driver's windows were operable.

"I think they had fun," Rich said quietly from the pilot's seat.

"Yeah," Ratchet agreed. "I know they've been lookin' forward t' some time off fer a while..." The lombax glanced at the security display and his voice trailed off. Venus had manifested some kind of conductive cable. It was only a cubit long, but was coated in some form of insulating material. She handed one end of the cable to Clank while holding the other in her right hand. His friend carefully moved aside the silver rings on the side of Venus's gown to reveal an access panel. At Clank's touch, Venus's eyes flickered and the panel opened, exposing a small socket...

Ratchet's eyes widened and the lombax blushed heavily. Quickly removing his Jeeves costume cap from his head, he used it to cover up the small display unit. Frantically, he began looking for an off switch or at least a dimmer control.

Rich, not occupied with managing the vehicle while it was in automatic operation, turned to the minister with a puzzled look on his face. "What?"

Ratchet shook his head, still looking for some kind of control for the display. "You don' wanna know..."

* * * * *

Approximately an hour later, the land wanderers pulled up in front of the Nebula Complex near the vacant manager's desk. Ratchet, after having a quick glance at the security monitor to check that Venus and Clank were, uh, 'ready', opened the door and helped them both to disembark. As each stepped out of the vehicle, both Venus and Clank took one look at the lombax and began chuckling. Ratchet felt hot and knew he was blushing; he must have been glowing very brightly in infrared, but neither Venus nor Clank seemed bothered by his embarrassment. Amused, perhaps, but not bothered.

The lombax led the way to the bank of teleporters, and he and the robots materialized on the top floor, inside the deputy station just outside the apartment suite. Tim and Rich teleported up immediately after them; Tim moving to stand behind the on-duty desk, with Rich standing behind them.

Ratchet touched the door actuator, entered his access code (pi three one four infinity six) and the door cycled open. The interior of the apartment was dark, so Ratchet used his matrix to activate the primary illumination program.

Clank, arm-in-arm with Venus, walked to the doorway. Turning to Ratchet, he said, "Thank you very much, Ratchet." He glanced at Venus, and she laughed lightly. Returning his optics to Ratchet, Clank smiled. "This has been a very enjoyable evening. I do not believe that we will require anything further. In the morning, we will contact Regional Minister Quantum to arrange for a portal to Holostar Studios." Rich, standing near the teleporter, nodded. "Good night, Ratchet."

"G'night, Clank," Ratchet replied, smiling.

Turning, Clank acknowledged Tim and Rich, nodding to both in turn and wishing them a good evening as well. He then stepped into the apartment.

Venus lingered behind for a moment. Turning to Ratchet, she spoke to him in her crisp, musical voice. "Thank you, Ratchet. I know that you went to a lot of trouble to set this up for us. I am truly grateful that Clank has friends such as yourself." She suddenly moved forward and impulsively kissed the lombax on the side of the muzzle. There was a slight shock of static electricity as the lombax was grounded against her metal lips. Giggling slightly, Venus waved grandly to Rich and Tim. "Good night."

"Good night, Venus," Ratchet whispered.

Venus stepped into the apartment and the door cycled closed. Ratchet stood there for a moment, then turned to Tim and Rich. "Well," he began, "I think Clank's in good hands."

"Yeah," Tim said, a smile on his muzzle. "I'll say."

"Tim," Rich began in a somewhat more serious voice. Tim immediately looked up at the regional minister. "Contact Dispatch and have them bring the land wanderers in to the depot. Ratchet and I'll teleport directly to Reg's. It's getting late, and the prime minister is due back any minute." Ratchet glanced at the desk chronometer - Rich was right; they might already be home by now. Tim nodded.

"And, please," Ratchet added, shaking his head slightly, "take off that silly costume..."

* * * * *

Rich and Ratchet materialized just outside the Solstice House. By this time, the surface puddles had either reabsorbed or evaporated, leaving the path leading to the ancestral home completely dry. Ratchet glanced over at the deep hole Justin had jumped in earlier: it too was dry, but had to be at least five centicubits deep. Smiling slightly, Ratchet placed his gloved hand on the security scanner. Looking up and waving to the video link embedded in the upper corner of the doorframe, he called out "Hey!" After a few moments, the door cycled open.

Ratchet carefully wiped his boots on the threshold and led the way into the ornate structure. While Ratchet had been to Reg's suite a number of times during his stay on New Fastoon, the lombax still had to use his nav unit on one occasion, just to double check the sequence of turns. Because the Solstice House had been built over many generations, there were a lot of add-ons, modifications and changes over time; even knowing where you wanted to go, it was still easy to get lost or run into a dead end if you were not paying attention or did not have a guide.

Eventually, the lombaxes found themselves in front of the unadorned thorntree wood door. Mindful of the time (and slightly worried about waking up Crystal), Ratchet knocked softly on the frame around the door. Shifting his weight slightly, he looked up at Rich. "Maybe I should just link Talwyn..."

At that moment, the door swung open on its antique metal hinges. Zephyr was standing just inside the suite. The warbot glanced quickly at Ratchet, but looked over Rich very carefully. After a few heartbeats, he called out in a loud voice to those in the suite, "The rookie showed up! 'N 'e done brung some kinda lombax Infernal Rev-e-new collector with 'em!"

Ratchet glanced at Rich, ears perking. "_That's_ where I've seen that costume before!" the lombax exclaimed. "GSPAN! Every time they talked about taxes, they had two goons on either side o' the speaker!"

Rich's ears drooped. That was not quite the look he and Tim had been trying for, but Ratchet was right - it was the same outfit!

Zephyr was nudged out of the way as Nichole came to the door. She took one look at the pair, her eyes turned to the color of grass in the spring, and she immediately turned back into the apartment, laughing uncontrollably. Zephyr stepped back from the door, waving to the lombaxes. "Well? Ya jus' gonna stand there all night? Git yer tails in here!"

Chuckling slightly, Ratchet, followed by Rich, entered the suite. While the prep center and breakfast nook were vacant, there were two open (and empty) pteradon containers from Jacek's on the table, along with the plates and pteradon bones at Reg's and Melody's places at the table. Two of the chairs had been removed, however. "We're in the family room," Zephyr said. "Why don'tcha grab a cup o' sludge fer yerselves 'n join us..."

Ratchet thought that was a great idea. He opened the cupboard located above the 'his' and 'hers' beverage dispensers on the prep center counter, and then began to study Melody's dispenser. He had always been curious about her extremely strong sludge, but the modifications on the machine looked rather... severe. Somewhat daunted, he finally just went to Reg's machine (it was already dialed to 'ultra') and drew a cup for himself. Bringing the mug to his muzzle, Ratchet could feel the fur start to tingle - this was still very strong, even compared to the 'ultra' setting on his own machine. Taking a small sip, Ratchet nearly choked on the vile solution. Wow! That was potent! The lombax took another sip. And another. Mmmm... After the initial shock, Ratchet began to wonder what Reg did differently, to see if he could duplicate it in his own machine. Of course, Talwyn wouldn't like it...

At that thought, Ratchet glanced over into the family room. It was nearly filled. Zephyr and Cronk were there; Petrov, sitting a little off to the side; Talwyn and Nichole; Melody and Reg. There was no sign of Justin or Crystal. The lombax looked over the crowd and caught Talwyn's eye. She met his gaze and Ratchet lifted his flask of sludge high, pointing to it, and then to her. Talwyn shook her head and picked up a flask of her own from the low table next to her chair. He nodded. "Hey," Ratchet said, moving into the crowd.

He was greeted by a chorus of welcomes from around the room. The lombax made his way through the open center of the circle of guests to sit on the floor by the table next to Talwyn. As he sat down, she bent over and kissed him lightly on the side of the muzzle, whispered "You still look ridiculous" and scratched at the fur at the base of his left ear. Ratchet's head twitched reflexively. It was annoying, but for some reason Talwyn really enjoyed doing that... (Probably _because_ it annoyed him...)

Rich, meanwhile, had cleared another chair from the breakfast nook and was carrying it into the room behind Ratchet. He placed it near Nichole's recliner (next to the sun lamp and table, currently empty except for a metal cylinder approximately four centicubits in diameter by six centicubits high) and sat as well.

"So how'd everythin' go with yer little buddy?" Cronk asked, looking over at Ratchet. The room itself hushed slightly, expectantly waiting. All of them knew about the plan with Venus.

"I think they had fun," Ratchet said. "They're back at the apartment now."

"Venus is really nice," Rich added. "They seem happy together."

Zephyr started letting out a dirty chuckle. "I'm sure..." Cronk nudged him on the side, hard, producing a rattling sound. Zephyr quieted, but continued to chuckle quietly to himself.

"So, how was Saphria?" Ratchet asked, turning to Reg and Melody.

"We had a great time, Ratchet," Melody answered. "Thank you for sending us."

"You're welcome," he replied, leaning his head slightly to rest against Talwyn's thigh.

Talwyn looked down at Ratchet, smiled slightly and turned to meet Melody's eyes. "Do you think that Crystal will have a younger brother or sister soon?"

Melody did not seem at all surprised by the question. "Not this time," she answered in a matter of fact voice, not uncomfortable in the slightest. "Two kits are more than enough at the moment, especially at this age. Maybe after they get a little older."

"Where are Justin and Crystal?" Ratchet asked.

"They went to sleep a few hours ago," Nichole answered. "Justin was exhausted! You must've worn him out. We've got a sensory distortion field up, so we won't wake them." Ratchet nodded with a grin on his muzzle. Wearing out a one year old was actually an impressive accomplishment.

Reg straightened up and looked over at Ratchet. "I brought back that sample you wanted, Ratchet," he said. "It's in the flask on the table." Ratchet glanced over at the cylinder. "I can't get over how well it worked with your thorntrees..."

"Yeah," Ratchet interrupted. "It worked great! I've got some folks in the CALR lookin' inta why..."

"Do you know Flora and Tyler Dyson?" Reg asked Ratchet. The lombax shook his head 'no'. "Great folks. They run the agro station out in Region 1. I'd like to get them involved in the testing as well."

"Agro station?" Ratchet repeated in a questioning voice. "Would they be interested?"

Reg smiled. "They coordinate the automated farm and ranch facilities spread out across Region 1. If you ate something plant based, or had any leviathan lately, it probably came from one of their gardens." Ratchet nodded; it was something he had always been curious about, but never got around to asking. "And they're definitely interested," Reg went on to say. "I told Flora about your thorntrees and she was amazed. I haven't seen her that worked up since The Flight..."

"You know her?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah," Reg answered. "She's actually my..." Reg paused slightly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, calculating. "...First cousin, once removed. Anyway, they want to try it out on one of their gardens."

"Okay," Ratchet said, shaking his head sadly, "but so far it only seems t' work on thorntrees..."

Nichole (who had been quietly talking with Rich, but must have heard that comment) turned to stare at Ratchet. "Only _thorntrees?_" Nichole repeated.

"Yeah," Ratchet answered. "I've gotta sponsorship runnin' t' find out why."

Reg gave Ratchet a somewhat strange look. "There are thorntrees on Saphria. Old ones, too..."

Ratchet nodded. "Yeah," he said, chuckling slightly. "Maybe the lombaxes were here before."

Reg shook his head slightly. "Lombaxes have only been in Leonid since the Great War; since the Dimensionator," he said. "But some of those trees looked even older than that."

Ratchet shrugged. "Maybe the CALR can find out."

Reg broke off the conversation, glanced at Melody and began looking around the room, his eyes resting on Ratchet and Talwyn, Nichole and Rich, Zephyr and Cronk in turn. Finally, his eyes fell on Petrov, sitting in the corner of the room. In a voice that was somewhat louder than it needed to be, he said, "Yeah... Saphria is really an interesting place; a great vacation spot."

At his words, the side conversations in the room stopped cold. Nichole's eyes immediately darkened to a deeper green; Rich sat up in his chair. Talwyn sighed slightly, glancing to Zephyr and Cronk. The warbots nodded slightly to her. Ratchet took a deep breath and got to his feet. He had been dreading this all day...

Reg continued speaking. "Ya know," he said as casually as he could, "almost all of us've been t' Saphria at least once..."

Petrov sat up in his chair and glanced around the room warily, his eyes immediately taking on a suspicious blue-grey color. The old lombax was, after all, a retired general: he knew a trap when one was closing in around him. In a tone as carefully casual as Reg's, Petrov looked into his childhood friend's soft brown eyes and commented, "Everyone that wanted t' go, anyway..."

Reg did not look away. Keeping his eyes locked on Petrov's rapidly darkening ones, he continued. "Maybe... But it's really a great place. Peaceful. Relaxing." Reg took a deep breath, not breaking eye contact with Petrov for even a moment. "You really oughtta check it out..."

Petrov's eyes had lost all trace of blue, and were now only the dark grey of ominous storm clouds. When he spoke, his voice had more than a trace of a growl to it, and his ears were low, not with tiredness or sadness, but with anger barely held in check. "Now why on Fastoon would I wanna check out a neobond resort?"

The room was silent for a moment or two before Reg pushed on. "It's not just for neobonds," he answered. "In fact..." Reg did not break eye contact, but held out his gloved hand to Melody. She looked at Petrov, her eyes filled with compassion, and handed a folded note to her mate. "We asked them while we were there." He held the note out towards Petrov. The general did not stir, but began to growl quietly, the greying fur around his ears and head bristling. "Ratchet..." Reg called.

Ratchet nodded, crossed the room and took the note from Reg. He could not meet Petrov's eyes. Opening the note, he immediately recognized the crisp, formal blue lombax lettering in raised ink. Ratchet began to read the note aloud. 'Of course,' the note read. 'It would be an honor to have Petrov visit. He is welcome here any time.' Ratchet closed the note, took a few steps and presented it to Petrov. But Ratchet took one look into Petrov's eyes, now with angry flashes amid the grey as though lightening among the storm clouds, and backed away, moving to stand protectively between the general and Talwyn.

"What's the point?" Petrov snarled at Reg.

"You need a vacation," Reg began heavily.

"No, I don't!" Petrov answered, his voice getting louder, angrier. Sitting up straight on edge of the chair, he continued, "I just had one..."

"The med center doesn't count," Reg countered, gesturing towards Nichole. Her eyes were an extremely dark green in her sad face. "And the sharking trip wasn't enough."

_That_ got Petrov's attention. He stood. Eye level with Reg, he asked in a dangerously quiet voice, "Enough fer what?"

"To accept that Cynthia's gone."

The room was silent. The bristling fur on Petrov's head and ears flattened immediately and the hot anger in his eyes vanished. It looked as though Petrov had been struck with a physical blow, slapped across the muzzle by his best friend. Petrov did not say another word, but slowly walked across through the open center of the room, making his way to the prep center and the exit.

"You're going, Petrov," Reg quietly said. Petrov did not turn, but made an obscene gesture over his shoulder at Reg, and perhaps at the whole room in general. "Code gamma eight," Reg said, somewhat grimly.

Petrov stopped. He was standing in the prep center, near the door to the suite. The lombax turned and faced them. The storm had passed in his eyes and there were no longer flashes of anger or any sign of grey there. Worse - Petrov's eyes looked strangely vacant; dead. In a barely audible voice, with no hint of emotion at all, Petrov muttered, "Like I really give a damn about your codes..."

Reg nodded. "I know," he began. Nodding to Rich, the prime minister continued. "But they do. The LDM will see you safely to Saphria."

Petrov looked over to his daughter's mate. "What're ya gonna do? Neuralock me?" His voice was flat and hollow, as empty as his eyes.

"No," Rich muttered. Taking a deep breath, he continued. "Just don't go to sleep..."

Petrov did not respond or even acknowledge Rich's words at first. But finally he nodded. Without another word or comment, Petrov reached for the door, opened it and walked out of the apartment.

Rich sprang up from where he was sitting, moving quickly across the room. As he did so, he hit the comm crystal on his glove's control panel. "Vincent!" he called loudly as he ran out of the room, hurrying to catch up with Petrov.

Once Petrov and Rich had left the suite, Reg closed the door. Very slowly, sadness evident in his tail, ears and eyes, he returned to the others in the family room. Ratchet, Talwyn, and everyone else gathered looked over to him as he sat down heavily next to Melody. Mel reached over and slipped her right arm up underneath Reg's leviathan skin vest, slowly rubbing his back for a few moments. After about a minute or so of painfully oppressive silence, Reg looked up and spoke. "Well," he said with a sigh. "That went better than I expected..."

* * * * *

_Nine days later..._

Ratchet carefully dressed himself in his Lombax Defense Ministry uniform. While he was not technically a member of the LDM, Petrov had loaned him a full uniform on his first, rather hurried visit to New Fastoon. Ever since, Ratchet always kept a spare suit of the camouflage shirt and jeans in his manifestor. They were kind of comfortable and they had tons of pockets in them. But Ratchet was wearing it for a more practical reason today; he hoped to appeal to Petrov's memories of their first meeting when the (at the time) regional minister captured him, rather than their last. The pain of that evening at Reg's still burned in Ratchet's mind.

Petrov's invitation to dinner actually came as a significant shock to the lombax. On his return from Saphria three days ago, the retired general had deliberately avoided all of his closest friends, refusing comm links and messages from Ratchet, Talwyn, the warbots, even Reg. Nichole, the first to see him immediately after his return, repeatedly let Ratchet know that he was okay, and that he would talk to him when he was ready. Since that day, it seemed almost as if Petrov reestablished contact with them one by one. Nichole and Rich first, then Reg and Melody. Now he and Talwyn had been invited to dinner; at Petrov's apartment of all places...

Clank had returned with Venus to Holostar Studios as planned, and the robots were attending the final wrap party for the cast this evening. Zephyr and Cronk, along with Douglas Jetstream, also traveled to Holostar to attend the event, and to keep an optic on Clank. Ratchet had been invited, but he didn't really care that much about the Holostar event, and without Talwyn it would not have been much fun. Petrov's invitation arrived almost immediately after they saw the warbots through the portal. Ratchet could only guess that Rich contacted Petrov and let him know that they were available.

Ratchet heard Talwyn behind him in the hallway outside the bathroom. Turning to her, the lombax asked, "How do I look?"

Talwyn, dressed in her regular jeans and shirt, looked Ratchet over from tip to tuft. "Overdressed," was her somewhat sarcastic reply. "It's just dinner."

"At Petrov's apartment," Ratchet added, shaking his head.

"True..." Talwyn admitted quietly.

Both Ratchet and Talwyn knew that Petrov's apartment had been the trigger point for their actions in forcing the general to take a vacation to begin with. Its dark and oppressive atmosphere of desolation acted as a distorted reflection of Petrov's own mental and emotional state. Having dinner there would not be a comfortable situation for any of them, no matter what kind of gourmet items Petrov could get teleported in from Jacek's.

They looked at each other for a few moments, and then Talwyn stirred. "We'd better get going, Ratchet."

"Yeah..."

The two of them walked out of the apartment suite to the LDM on-duty desk stationed outside their door. Deputy Wallace Refractor was their watchbax for the evening. "Are you ready to go to Minister Neutrino's?" Wallace asked in a somewhat formal voice. Wallace still was very crisp and professional about his dealings with Ratchet and Talwyn, maintaining a somewhat stiff demeanor towards them. At least, while on duty; off duty, he was reasonably cool.

Ratchet nodded and the three of them walked over to the teleporter pad.

Materializing outside of Petrov's apartment, they found Vincent sitting at the on-duty station. The lombax's booted feet were propped up on the desk and he was leaning back comfortably in his chair, hands behind the back of his head, staring at the apartment door.

"Hi, Vincent," Ratchet called out.

Vincent twisted in his chair, feet going to the floor and his amber eyes locking onto Ratchet, Talwyn and Wallace. He quickly sprang to his feet. "Minister!" he answered in a somewhat guilty voice. "Nice to see you." He turned to Talwyn, nodding. "Talwyn, thank you for coming." He looked over to Wallace. "Deputy Refractor," he said in a somewhat more restrained voice. "I was expecting Tim this evening..."

"Tim couldn't make it," Wallace answered. "He had duties elsewhere..."

"Ah..." Vincent said, trying to make the best of the situation. "Pity. I was going to trounce him in a few rounds of poker while we wait."

Wallace's eyes narrowed. "You're supposed to be on duty..."

Talwyn moved over towards Deputy Refractor and said something very quietly into his ear. A slight grin broke out on Wallace's muzzle. He glanced back at Talwyn and nodded. "But," he said, turning back to Vincent, "we do have some time to kill."

"Excellent," Vincent said, an evil grin spreading across his muzzle. He glanced up at Ratchet and Talwyn. "Petrov's expecting you. Just go right in."

"Thanks," Ratchet muttered. Taking Talwyn's arm in his own, they stepped past the desk and moved to the door. Leaning over to Talwyn, he whispered, "What did you say to Wallace?"

Talwyn looked at him and grinned. "Just that it might be 'educational' if he whipped Vincent's tail. Especially if they had a 'friendly wager' on the game..."

"That's mean!" Ratchet quietly chuckled, reaching forward and touching the door sensor. The door immediately cycled open. Ratchet and Talwyn stepped over the threshold fearing the worst, but one look at the interior of Petrov's apartment caused them both to stop in their tracks in shock.

Both of them had been expecting Petrov's apartment to be as it had been before - untouched and showing the signs of both abandonment and neglect that accumulated over the long years Petrov spent there alone. But neither of them had expected the change that they saw in front of their eyes.

The high quality and finely crafted thorntree wood furniture and fixtures had all been polished and glowed with a warm, inviting luster, the carefully hewn and matched grain showcased by the artistic hands of the manufacturer. Above them, the illumination filaments cast a dazzling array of light and spectra as the cut carbon crystal surrounding them magnified and intensified the brightness of the room. The gaming table and audio / video cockpit had been cleaned and vacuumed, with no trace of shed fur anywhere. Petrov's alpha cannon was still in the grips of his work bench axial stabilizers, but it also showed signs of recent cleaning and construction. In fact, it looked like whatever modifications Petrov was working on were nearly complete.

"I'll be right there..." Petrov's deep voice came down the bedroom hall to them. "Hang on..."

"Okay," Ratchet called back.

The prep center had been cleared of all of the debris that had accumulated. A strangely enticing scent emanated from the oven under the clean heating elements. The dining room table had a crisp white cloth spread across the surface, with fresh place settings arranged at three of the chairs. In front of the fourth chair there was a small vase of fresh blooms in a glass vase. Both Ratchet and Talwyn recognized them from experience as a 'forgive-me-bloom, level three' bouquet from Jacek's nephew. Talwyn looked closer and found a card on the bloom arrangement, addressed to her.

Ratchet glanced up the hallway. The two smaller bedrooms on the left of the corridor (that had belonged to the twins when they were younger) were no longer empty. Both rooms now had a traditional furniture set including a bed, desk, chair and storage center in them. Ratchet did not enter those rooms, but from the doorway, the furniture looked to be made of a high quality thorntree wood, similar to the level of craftsmanship as the furniture in the rest of the apartment. The bathroom at the end of the hall was well lit and seemed clean from a distance. But the thing that drew the lombax forward was the master bedroom - the one that Petrov had converted into a shrine to Cynthia and that he kept sealed under tight security. The door was now wide open and light (along with Petrov's shadow) was streaming out of it across the hallway floor.

Ratchet moved forward and stood outside the doorway. Petrov was busy arranging some of his own gear and books on the desk. While there were still items that were obviously Cynthia's in plain view, it was apparent that they had also been recently cleaned and moved.

Somewhat worried that he might be intruding, Ratchet knocked on the wall near the entrance. Petrov looked up from what he was doing. His eyes were a medium light blue, not quite azure, but still not nearly as dark as they typically were whenever Ratchet saw Petrov in his apartment. "Hey, Ratchet," the general said warmly.

"Hey," Ratchet replied, still somewhat in a state of shock.

"Gimme a minute," Petrov answered. "I'll be right there. I just wanna get this stuff put away..."

"Okay," Ratchet said, retreating down the hallway into the main room near the gaming table.

Talwyn had been examining the books and artwork that hung on the walls of Petrov's apartment. She gasped slightly, carefully taking a framed still image from a shelf where it was prominently placed next to a small fragment of raritanium carved to look like a gear tooth. "Petrov," she called. "Is this Cynthia?"

Ratchet's heart nearly skipped a beat. Of all things to mention here; under these unusual circumstances... He quickly moved to Talwyn's side. The still image of Petrov and Cynthia beneath the memorial on Fastoon was in her hands and she showed it to him. His eyes widened, recognizing the image.

"Yeah," Petrov said from just behind them. Both Ratchet and Talwyn spun, guiltily facing Petrov with nervous expressions on their faces. But looking into Petrov's light blue, almost white eyes, they both started to relax a little. A faint smile appeared on Petrov's muzzle. Holding out his hand, he gently accepted the framed still that Talwyn handed to him. Looking at it lovingly, he showed it to the couple. "Cynthia and I had been seein' each other fer a few months when this was taken," he explained. "We were havin' so much fun. When we got home that night, I kissed her 'n told her I thought we might be bonded. She wouldn't believe me at first. But I convinced her..." Petrov's soft voice trailed off, his eyes staring at the image.

"She seems like a lovely woman," Talwyn said quietly.

"She was," Petrov said. Ratchet and Talwyn looked at each other. They had never heard Petrov really talk about Cynthia like this before, except for a few very brief times in Polaris. Petrov put the frame back on the shelf by the monument fragment. "That's why I keep the gear tooth by the still; she woulda liked that."

"You did a great job on the apartment, Petrov," Ratchet said, hoping to keep the general talking, to help figure out what was going on.

Petrov looked around and nodded. A twinkle grew in his azure eyes as he said, "Thanks." He looked down the hallway at the bedrooms. "I figured I'd better get things ready. I might hafta sit fer Justin and Crystal. 'N when Rich and Nikki start havin' kits o' their own, I'll probably need the space."

Petrov led them into the dining room and asked them to sit down. Petrov reserved the spot nearest the prep center for himself, with Ratchet to his right and Talwyn directly across from him. After Ratchet and Talwyn sat down, Petrov turned to the beverage dispenser in the corner of the prep center. "I know Ratchet likes ultra, but what about you, Talwyn?"

"Mild is good for me," Talwyn replied.

"Okay," Petrov answered, filling three flasks, one at a time, adjusting the settings for each one. He served them, slowly sat at his place and looked down at his flask. In a quiet voice, he said, "I wanna apologize fer the way I acted last week." He looked up, meeting Ratchet's and Talwyn's concerned looks in turn. "I was a real jerk. I know you were jus' tryin' t' help." He paused, taking a deep breath. "I thought it was a waste o' time; that ya were jus' gonna make things hurt even more." Petrov took a sip of his sludge. "I was wrong. I'm sorry."

"What was it like?" Talwyn asked. "We were worried about you." Ratchet nodded, taking Talwyn's hand in his.

"At first I hated it," Petrov sighed. "I hated the whole thing. I jus' wanted t' go home." He took another sip of sludge. "But after a while, I started t' relax. I went down t' the beach." Petrov chuckled slightly. "Cynthia woulda loved Saphria. She always liked walkin' along a shoreline..." He sighed again. "Anyway, I went down t' the beach, 'n watched the waves fer a bit. There was a warm breeze..." He eyed Ratchet and Talwyn strangely. "Did you two ever have trouble stayin' awake there?"

Ratchet chuckled. "Yeah," he answered. "Sometimes. Last time we were on Saphria, we took a walk one night, 'n fell asleep near some caves. Don't remember how we got there, jus' woke up the next morning..."

"It _is_ very peaceful there," Talwyn offered.

"Yeah," Petrov answered. "I had lotsa trouble stayin' awake. The whole time. That first day, I was asleep on that shore fer hours... Lotsa weird dreams too..."

Ratchet looked at him surprised. "Like what?" he asked curiously.

Petrov thought back. "There was one," he started. "It was one o' the first ones, just after I got there. I was walkin' along the shore 'n this lombax appears outta nowhere, naked as the day he was born, and starts talkin' t' me. Asks me about myself... my past... Cynthia and the twins..." Petrov's voice trailed off for a moment. "He leads me inta the ocean 'n waves his hand over the water, tellin' me t' look into my future. I look down at the water 'n see a whole bunch o' kits! My grandkits! They were givin' Nick 'n Nikki a run fer their bolts too, I'll tell ya!" Petrov laughed at the memory for a moment, then continued. "So then this blue guy..."

Ratchet interrupted. "Blue?" he asked, eyebrows raised and an extremely dubious look on his face.

"Yeah," Petrov replied, with a grunting chuckle. "He had blue fur. I didn't say it made sense..." Ratchet shrugged and Petrov continued. "Anyway, this blue guy starts promptin' me, gettin' me t' talk and listening t' what I said, givin' me advice... Eventually, I started fallin' asleep on 'm." Petrov grew silent.

"What happened next," Talwyn asked, prompting Petrov to continue.

"I woke up," Petrov chuckled. "I'd dozed off on the shore. The waves started comin' in 'n woke me up."

Ratchet shook his head, a grin on his muzzle. "Can't say we had any weird dreams when we were there..."

Talwyn leaned over and kissed Ratchet on the side of the muzzle. "I dreamed about you a few times," she said.

Ratchet grinned back at her. "Me too," he replied, squeezing her hand slightly.

Petrov nodded. "I dreamt about Cynthia - a lot." Ratchet and Talwyn turned and stared at Petrov. His eyes were nearly white, but instead of being whitish blue, they were a very pale lemon yellow. "I swear, it was like she was right there with me." A distant smile lifted the corners of Petrov's muzzle. "It seemed _so_ real. I could actually smell the scent of her fur as she'd..." Petrov broke off from his description, somewhat embarrassed. "Well," he finally continued, "let's jus' say I still remember everything about 'er." Breaking eye contact with Ratchet and Talwyn, he looked down at the table. "I thought I lost her," he said quietly, a trace of sadness in his voice. "I thought I fergot. I haven't dreamed about her fer so long now..."

"You seem... different," Talwyn offered. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, actually," Petrov answered, sipping his sludge once again. "After I got used t' bein' stuck there, I started relaxin'. It was kinda nice after a while."

"Didja 'go native'?" Ratchet asked, teasing his adopted father slightly, leaning forward with a grin on his muzzle.

"Please!" Petrov replied. "No, Ratchet, I didn't 'go..." Petrov paused for a moment, meeting Ratchet skeptical look. "Okay, maybe." Ratchet grinned. "Once!" Ratchet started laughing. "I went fer a swim 'n didn't have shorts." Ratchet continued laughing. Talwyn started to laugh as well. "Really!" Petrov said, somewhat embarrassed. "It was just the one time..." Ratchet and Talwyn continued laughing, shaking their heads at him. Petrov started chuckling himself. "Alright," he relented, laughing as well. "Fine. It's not like I had an audience."

They laughed for a while, then Petrov finished his story. "When I got back t' New Fastoon, I walked inta the apartment." His laughter died on his lips and his eyes turned a little darker. "I knew I hadta do somethin'. After talkin' with Nichole and Rich, I called Reg 'n hired a squad of his cleaning bots." He smiled a little and gestured around the apartment. "Those guys do great work. When they first saw the place, I woulda swore their optics looked happy."

"Anyway," Petrov said as he stood from the table. "Are ya hungry?" He moved over to the prep center and the oven beneath it. "I made some multistrata. I've been practicin' Nick's recipe..."

[end.]

* * * * *

_Three months later..._

The tiny pod was completely dark, shielded from scanning by the outside world and illuminated only by the light given off from the portable holovid display unit. Over the very small audio generators, a slightly distorted and thin reproduction sounded in an unceasing loop, synchronized with the holovid action:

"no..."  
"You are fired." A chuckle.  
_BLAM!_  
"I am very impressed, Agent Clank. I was uncertain if you would have the capacitors to do it."  
_thump_  
"You should know more accurately, Maximillian."  
"Indeed, Agent Clank. I do ... now." A pause. "Get that stinking piece of meat out of here!"  
_a dragging sound_  
"You have pr..."  
_-click-_

"no..."  
"You are fired." A chuckle.  
_BLAM!_  
"I am very impressed, Agent Clank. I was uncertain if you would have the capacitors to do it."  
_thump_  
"You should know more accurately, Maximillian."  
"Indeed, Agent Clank. I do ... now." A pause. "Get that stinking piece of meat out of here!"  
_a dragging sound_  
"You have proven your loy..."  
_-click-_

"no..."  
"You are fired." A chuckle.  
_BLAM!_  
"I am very impressed, Agent Clank. I was uncertain if you would have the capacitors to do it."  
_thump_  
"You should know more accurately, Maximillian."  
"Indeed, Agent Clank. I do ... now." A pause. "Get that stinking piece of meat out of here!"  
_a dragging sound_  
"You ..."  
_-click-_


	19. Microstory: Terms

**Disclaimers:**

Welcome to another single chapter microstory based on the rest of my Leonid Stories (Homecoming, Relativity, Instincts, Registration, Bait, Mortality, Override and Friends). I wrote the rough plot outline between 21 November and 24 November 2010, and wrote the first draft between 28 November 2010 and 2 December 2010. While I try to keep typos and context errors to an absolute minimum, and I reread the story many times along the way, I never catch every mistake. This story takes place approximately one month after the end of Friends, slightly over two years and six months after the end of Tools of Destruction.

Recommended reading order: Homecoming; Relativity; Instincts; Registration; Bait; Mortality; Override; Friends; Terms.

Special thanks to Kody Orpurt for keeping me interested and involved in writing this fic. If it were not for him, this story would never have been put into electrons and would have remained simply as a figment of my warped imagination. Thanks!

All standard disclaimers apply. As always I reserve the right to edit or tweak the text as I see fit and want to improve, correct or delete it. So, for your entertainment... Enjoy!

* * *

**Terms**

Ratchet closed his eyes for a moment and took a series of deep, relaxing breaths. The tips of the lombax's ears were practically quivering with anticipation, and his tail tip struggled to move, somewhat squashed against the firm supportive cushioning of Aphelion's pilot seat. Slightly more calm and with a grin growing across his muzzle, the lombax opened his eyes and stared out through the protective canopy.

Aphelion was in an unusually high orbit, holding a geostationary position over a small reddish brown world. The normally dull, dusty colors of this planet's natural surface were somewhat distorted by an almost uncountable number of tiny objects locked into a complex geometric pattern within its exosphere. This single thin layer at the outermost boundary of the planet's atmosphere seemed to ripple as very faint currents of energy flowed among the objects. While the energy discharges between the devices appeared to keep them equidistant from each other, they also formed an extremely tight mesh of shimmering energy, causing the planet to twinkle slightly from pole to pole against the dark background of space.

Ratchet touched a few controls, and the display on the central console shifted. The planetary data overview screen was quickly replaced, and the triangle formed by three of the tiny objects was now highlighted on the vidpanel. On Aphelion's display screen the energy currents between them were plainly visible even without optical enhancement. All three objects were connected by plasma links to each other, and the void between them was filled with a curtain of energy, most noticeable at the exact center as the projected plasma from each individual device merged in triple redundancy with that of its two neighbors. Ratchet reached out and gestured on the screen with his gloved right hand directly over one of the objects. The display zoomed in, showing an even closer image.

The object appeared to be a very tiny, highly symmetrical artificial satellite. Barely a single cubit across, the small device would have easily fit inside Aphelion's copilot seat. It was roughly tetrahedral in shape, with three of its four sides projecting outward from the orbital plane. Each tip appeared to be made of some form of translucent crystalline material, and was glowing slightly. A faint plasma strand emanated from the three tips within the orbital plane, connecting the satellite with the tips of those surrounding it. The fourth tip pointed towards him, outward into space. It also glowed, but there was no obvious plasma discharge. The visible sides of the satellite were primarily flat surfaces, almost completely covered with energy harvest panels. Solar electric, ionic, radiation, particle and quantum absorption units blanketed most of the device, hinting at rather significant power generation capabilities. The exception to this was a small recessed hemisphere in the exact center of each side, housing a data link antenna, a scanning array, a power coupling and a series of three inactive inertial generators aligned along each axis of the satellite.

Ratchet smiled slightly as he once again touched the display screen, magnifying the recessed area on the satellite's side. His ears were twitching again. Tightening his harness against his body, he turned to his copilot. "Ready, Clank?" he asked, the excitement and tension in his words plainly evident.

Clank looked back at his friend. There was a certain gleam in the lombax's eyes that the little robot knew from all too much experience meant trouble. Well, perhaps not trouble, but mayhem of some form. But unlike some of their past adventures, Clank knew that every step of this situation had been carefully planned well in advance, the culmination of nearly two months of painstaking and detailed preparation. And Clank knew that they were as ready as they would ever be. He adjusted his own harness and nodded. "Yes, Ratchet. I am ready."

Ratchet's smile grew a little wider. "Aphelion?" he asked.

"I am ready," Aphelion replied eagerly. All lombax chi and psi class fighters were sentient, each with a unique personality and identity all their own, and while Aphelion was certainly nervous about attacking a planet this heavily fortified, she knew and trusted Ratchet to get her through this. They had been through a lot together, and she did not want to make Ratchet any more excited than he already was. Besides, Perigee was hovering just to the starboard, and she did not want the younger psi class fighter to think that she had any doubts about the sanity of her pilot, no matter what her personal feelings might be.

Ratchet engaged the comm link with his neural matrix, activating a low power secure channel that would not be detected by the planet below. "Jason," he said. "Are you ready?"

There was a momentary pause and then Deputy Jason Positron responded back, using the same encrypted link. "We're all set," he replied both for himself and for Perigee.

The lombax nodded. "What about you, Mel?" he asked over the link. Of all the people involved in this little adventure, Ratchet was most concerned about her. Melody Gaiden-Solstice was certainly a highly skilled fighter pilot, and Ratchet was sure she could handle herself in almost any given situation. He had chosen Jason and Mel because they were the best pilots that Ratchet knew, and the lombax was certain he could rely on them in this difficult situation. But Ratchet had Aphelion and Jason had Perigee if things got really difficult. The ship Melody flew was not in the least bit intelligent; if something bad happened, she would have to deal with it alone.

"I'm ready," she cheerfully answered back.

Ratchet nodded; Mel could easily take care of herself, and she was well aware of what she was getting herself into. "Captain Waterman," he called out. "We're in position. Is everything ready on The Wrench?"

The ancient captain's heavy bass voice reverberated inside Aphelion's cabin. "The Wrench is prepared, Minister Neutrino. We are monitoring your communications and standing by for your signal."

"Thank you, Captain," Ratchet replied, somewhat formally. The lombax glanced over to Clank in the copilot's seat again. The robot had been watching him and gave him a faint nod of approval. "Okay, guys. On three..."

"Guys?" Melody commented sarcastically over the link, chuckling slightly.

"Ya know what I mean," Ratchet replied, chuckling a little as well. It wasn't just Mel, but both Aphelion and Perigee were female also. The lombax was somewhat glad that Talwyn didn't hear that remark, or he would've been hearing about it all week. "One..." The lombax's grip on Aphelion's controls tightened slightly.

"Two..." Ratchet took a really deep breath.

"Three!"

Aphelion shot forward, using her full thrusters augmented by the speed enhancing 'Express-Go' additive Ratchet had developed with the CALR. Ratchet, Clank and Aphelion zoomed downward, straight at the planet and its rippling energy shield, with Jason, Perigee and Melody in tight formation beside and slightly below them on either side. Together, the trio of ships quickly closed the distance from their high orbit until they were mere seconds from the defensive array.

Ratchet pulled hard on the control stick, veering upward and away from the others, moving directly towards one of the multitude of individual satellites. Closing quickly on the orbiting device, an alarm tone inside Aphelion's cockpit sounded; they were within range. Ratchet's thumb pressed down hard on the large red targeting button built into the tip of his control stick. A kinetic tether launched from Aphelion, locking itself onto the power coupling on the face of the satellite in front of him. With a quick second press, the tether retracted, ripping the coupling from its socket.

The change was immediate. The three tips adjoining with this face of the satellite dimmed. While the plasma discharges did not completely cease, they significantly weakened as the crystal tips slowly faded, darkening to a dull, matt grey. The inertial thrusters fired, maintaining the satellite's position within the grid above the planet.

While Aphelion recorded all of these events for later review, Ratchet did not have time to notice the specifics. With the power coupling still locked in the kinetic tether, the lombax threw Aphelion's controls hard forward, adjusting their flight straight down - directly at the planet below. As they plunged, Ratchet had time for a single thought, hoping that Mel and Jason were able to take out their satellites in time...

The entire attack was over in less than two seconds as Aphelion broke through the plane of the defense grid. Ratchet had partially disabled his satellite, pulling the power coupling on one face and shutting down its attack/defense range by 120 degrees. Melody and Jason had also pulled away from the formation, attacking the two adjacent satellites in the exact same manner. Between them, they had partially disabled all three devices, creating a very small, unprotected triangular window above the planet. While the size of the window was barely enough for the three lombaxes to fly through simultaneously, that was not what mattered. The important thing was that they had broken through!

Ratchet took another deep breath to steady himself and adjusted Aphelion's controls, putting her into a high orbit just below the shield, near the satellite he had damaged. Looking around through the canopy, he could see Perigee and Melody's ship hovering nearby. The tips of his ears were still twitching excitedly and a triumphant grin broke out on his muzzle. "Yes!" he shouted, pumping his fist in the air in front of him. He turned to look at Clank. The robot's optics were very bright and there was a pleased expression on his face as he offered his fist to Ratchet. The lombax bumped it enthusiastically.

"We did it!" Melody shouted happily over the link.

"Yeah," Jason replied, in a voice filled with awe, but tempered by a significant amount of new found concern. "We did..."

Ratchet's smile grew even wider. Receiving another encouraging nod, he said, "Great work! Time fer the big payoff!" Turning his attention to the interior of his ship, Ratchet said, "Aphelion, open a vid channel 'n tie in the others please."

"Certainly, Ratchet," Aphelion replied. There was a note of pride in her cultured voice.

Ratchet looked at the console display, his eyes locked on the vid feed embedded in the console just above the panel. Feeling both relieved and exhilarated by their success, Ratchet decided to be a bit playful... "Ahoy there!" Ratchet said in full pirate mode. "This be the Dread Pirate Ratchet. Ye's got five minutes t' surrender t' me 'n me mates, or we'll blow yer miserable planet t' rubble."

There was a slight pause, followed by the display flickering to life. A very large lombax in the camouflage uniform of the Lombax Defense Ministry glared back at him. The lombax had his arms crossed across his chest, his head was tilted slightly to one side and an extremely skeptical look filled his sparking blue eyes. From the look of it, Petrov was calling from the guard station outside the main council chamber. With a sneer across his muzzle, Petrov looked into his vid feed, snorted and replied, "I don't think so..."

Immediately, the satellite defense belt above them began to glow even more brightly than it had before. The plasma discharges between the individual devices increased as the energy shield protecting New Fastoon sprang to full readiness. Safely below the plane of satellites, Ratchet looked upward with a somewhat impressed look on his muzzle. Petrov wasn't holding back; the belt was at full power, and it was really cool to see it work, especially from close up. The lombax was just happy to be on the planetary side of the belt, and not outside looking in.

But it was clear that Petrov didn't know about their latest activities. Over the active comm link, Ratchet, still in full pirate mode, exclaimed, "Ye've got a lotta guts tryin' somethin' like that! It seems ye needs a wee demonstration. Captain Waterman, please give these groundlings somethin' t' think about."

"Aye!" Captain Waterman snarled in reply, also in full pirate mode. Even though he only said one word, he sounded a lot better at it than Ratchet did.

While the CALR had not fully resolved the in-flight manufacturing issues with Ratchet's Express-go additive, The Wrench was still the fastest ship in the lombax fleet, especially for short distances. The flagship, waiting well outside of New Fastoon's defense perimeter, accelerated toward the planet from a point perpendicular to its orbital plane. Under the careful guidance of Captain Waterman, the flagship roared in at full speed, and then suddenly reversed its engines to come to a dead stop above the hole in the defense belt that Ratchet and his friends had made. Waterman fired a single shot - a low power antimatter charge carefully targeted at a sparsely populated area of Region 1. Then, just as quickly as the flagship appeared, The Wrench accelerated outward again, quickly leaving New Fastoon and the region of space around it.

Captain Waterman, Ratchet and Clank had planned this maneuver, going over every detail well in advance. Waterman had personally rehearsed the sudden acceleration, stop and escape routine hundreds of times outside of the viewing range of New Fastoon. The antimatter charge was carefully calibrated and targeted with microcubit accuracy. But even with all of that, Ratchet had to admit that the effect was stunning. From his perspective as an observer just below the defense belt, it appeared as if The Wrench had materialized out of empty space, fired, and blinked out of existence as though it had never been there. "...wow..." the lombax exclaimed quietly.

The satellite defense belt did not even have time to react. The energized devices fired waves of plasma, their bolts harmlessly converging on a point in empty space where The Wrench had been.

The vid link activated and Petrov's muzzle filled the screen. His eyes were no longer twinkling, and they were the grey of an ocean storm. "What in Fastoon do you think you're doing?" he practically shouted into the link. "That was a live shot!"

Ratchet's smile grew even wider. "Just a warnin' shot over the bow, laddie," he said, still talking like a pirate. Petrov's scowl deepened, his eyes flashing with anger. Apparently, he was not accustomed to being called 'laddie'... "Jus' t' let ye know we mean business. No 'arm done. Yet..." Ratchet let his voice trail off, and then added in his normal tone, "And besides, the Dyson's asked fer help diggin' a containment pit outside their ranch in Region 1. The crater's fer their leviathan herd." Petrov's anger seemed to fade a bit and he backed away from the vid link slightly. Ratchet chuckled again and returned to his pirate voice. "Ye's got five minutes t' agree to our terms!" Using his neural matrix, he severed the link with New Fastoon below him.

Feeling very pleased with himself, the lombax smiled over to Clank and called out over the link to his friends. "So, how was that?"

Jason and Melody both approved of Ratchet's improvisation wholeheartedly. The pirate styled threat was not really part of their original plan, but both agreed that it fit in very nicely. Clank responded, "That was an excellent idea, Ratchet. I am certain you caught Petrov unaware."

There was, however, one dissenting opinion. Captain Waterman remained strangely silent on the link, and there was a slight static sound, as though he had sighed.

"Captain?" Ratchet asked.

"Yes, minister?" Captain Waterman responded. But while there was still a respectful tone to the Captain's voice, the old bot's voice also seemed a bit gravely and rough. Ratchet knew that he was holding something back.

"Captain, please," Ratchet continued. "I respect your opinion. Tell me."

"Very well, minister," Waterman continued. His voice was slightly warmer, and there was another burst of static on the link. "I find I must keep reminding myself of your relative youth in this matter. You will learn with time."

Ratchet and Clank looked at each other. Ratchet shrugged. Clank smiled, nodding slightly at his friend's predicament. It was highly unlikely that an organic like Ratchet would _ever_ reach Waterman's multimillennial level of experience.

Captain Waterman continued. "Your performance was adequate for this situation, as it was. However, it was significantly lacking. Had this been an actual pirate encounter, you would have lost a significant amount of respect amongst your crew."

_That_ got Ratchet's attention. While his pirate threat was really just a minor bit of fun with Petrov and the lombaxes of New Fastoon, Ratchet _did_ have a pirate crew he had to worry about in Polaris. With Rusty Pete acting as the fuel flow engineer for The Wrench, Sprocket was now his second-in-command and filling in for Ratchet while he was in Leonid. While Ratchet felt certain that Sprocket would not violate the pirate code or do anything against Ratchet's _direct_ orders, the lombax had to keep a very close eye on his underling. Sprocket was fond of running the fleet as he saw fit, and some of his decisions were not what Ratchet would have wanted. Also, Sprocket was loath to serve under a lombax that wasn't even physically around most of the time. Anything Ratchet could do to improve his pirate leadership abilities might come in very handy for dealing with his increasingly mutinous crew.

"How?" Ratchet blurted out. "What'd I do?"

"It was not what you did, minister, that is the issue," Waterman explained. "It is what you did not do. Your tone was far too... reasonable. As such, you failed to inspire adequate terror in your prey." Ratchet's eyes opened wide, and he leaned forward in Aphelion's cockpit (at least as far as his restraining straps would allow), listening intently. Clank looked on, somewhat concerned with the eager gleam that was suddenly visible in his friend's eyes. "Your victims," Waterman continued, "must feel dread and utter certainty that you will carry out your threats." Ratchet nodded, even though it was not a video connection.

"You may have noticed that most pirates appear to be emotionally unstable, have anger management issues, are extremely intoxicated, or a combination of all three. There is an extremely practical reason for this." Captain Waterman's booming bass continued to grow in volume and enthusiasm, reverberating inside Aphelion's small cabin, to the point where she had to reduce the audio gain. "By presenting yourself in this manner, you appear to be completely unstable and totally irrational. Therefore, there is no practical recourse for your victims. They realize that you are incapable of negotiation; they will despair knowing that they must submit to your demands or die, and that even if they do submit, there remains a possibility that you will carry out your threat anyway, just to amuse yourself and your crew."

A sly smile slowly grew on Ratchet's muzzle. He never thought of it that way before, but Waterman had a really good point; it made sense.

The captain paused for a moment, then continued in a softer and more controlled voice, as though he realized he was getting a little too excited. "By seeming reasonable, minister, you opened yourself up to the possibility of negotiation and parley, your crew imagines their plunder being bargained away, and the lombaxes utilize the time to construct a counter attack."

"Thank you, Captain," Ratchet answered, his voice very sincere. He looked over to Clank, saw the somewhat concerned look on his face and smiled a bit more naturally. Putting his hand briefly on his friend's shoulder, Ratchet stared into Clank's optics as he continued. "I've gotta deal with Sprocket and my crew in Polaris." Clank's optics brightened a bit on hearing Ratchet's words. "This'll help. A lot!" Turning back to the canopy and staring out at New Fastoon below him, he asked, "So, wha' d' ya recommend?"

Rusty Pete's voice suddenly broke onto the shared comm link. "More grog! (hic)"

There was another burst of static on the link. In a somewhat annoyed voice, Captain Waterman called out, "Mr. Bitstream..."

Randall Bitstream, the talented lombax cadet that Nicholas has selected to serve as the encryption engineer for The Wrench after his graduation at The Academy, joined the link. "Captain," he said somewhat apologetically, "I don't know where he got it. All the containment locks are secure, and the fuel and additive tanks levels are correct."

Ratchet ears perked slightly as he realized what might have happened. In a somewhat guilty voice, he interrupted the conversation. "Uh, that mighta been my fault. We've been workin' on Express-go's formula, so it'll be easier t' make in space. The CALR said they were gonna send ya a sample." Ratchet chuckled slightly. "I guess Pete got to it first."

"Yup!" Pete continued happily, a somewhat smug sound to his drunken voice. "Good (hic), good shtuff, too..."

"I'm sorry, Captain," Ratchet continued.

"It is not your fault, minister," Waterman replied, the contempt in his voice unmistakable. "This is not the first time those groundlings have sent test samples without informing me in advance." There was another burst of static. "If you would be so kind, please tell your friends in the CALR to direct future shipments in care of Mr. Bitstream."

"Sure," Ratchet replied.

The link went quiet for a moment, and then Waterman continued. "Mr. Ferroxide does have a valid point, however. Inebriation would certainly make you a more convincing pirate."

Ratchet shuddered. The last experience he had with one of Pete's grog mixes had been a thoroughly unpleasant one, and had cost him nine days in the med center at the hands of Courtney Gears. "I'll think about it..." Ratchet replied weakly.

Aphelion saved him from further embarrassment. "I have an incoming communication from New Fastoon. I am connecting it to this link."

Petrov was standing alongside Prime Minister Reginald Solstice to his left and Regional Minister Rich Quantum to his right. From the look of the lengthening shadows in the courtyard and the LDM flag in the background illuminated from below by photon generators, it appeared as though they had deliberated at Rich's office in Region Nine. It also looked like it was getting pretty late there. Petrov's eyes were a blue-grey and his ears and tail were a bit low. At least he did not seem as angry as he did before. Rich did not look in the least bit happy. Reg, however, had a smile on his muzzle and he seemed immensely amused by the situation. The prime minister put his gloved right hand in Petrov's lower back and shoved him forward, at the vid feed. Petrov turned to growl briefly at Reg before addressing the link.

"After a thorough review of the satellite defense belt and a detailed inspection of your little ... divot, we decided we've got no choice..." Petrov's voice trailed off, and he looked down at the ground. This must have been very difficult for him.

"Say it," Ratchet teased. "Come on..."

Petrov glared back at him, the angry fire returning to his eyes. Ratchet knew it was probably easier for him this way. "Fine. I surrender t' yer terms, Ratchet." He made an obscene gesture at the link and took a step backward.

Reg stepped forward. In his well practiced and most formal voice, he began, "On behalf of the governing body of New Fastoon, I hereby surrender to your terms, Clank... Captain Waterman..." Then, his grin taking on a somewhat more roguish look, he dropped all formality, his voice warming to almost a crooning purr. "Mel, I surrender to your terms. Unconditionally." There was a pause for a moment before he added, "I look forward to it..."

He took a step back and Rich stepped forward. He still did not look in the least bit amused by the situation and did not even play along as the others did. Rich waved vaguely in the direction of the vid link and then back to the other lombaxes behind him. "Yeah, what they said. Jason, when you get back, stop by my office. I'll take care of you."

Rich looked back at Reg and Petrov for a moment before he spoke again. "But as long as you're up there, would you mind fixing those satellites?" He looked back at the link and smiled slightly in a resigned sort of way. "I don't like having a hole in the belt, even if it is a small one." Chuckling slightly, his forced grin turned a little nasty as he added, "I'll even power it down for you while you do the work, so we don't accidentally obliterate you."

Ratchet chuckled in reply. "Thanks. We'd appreciate that." Growing somewhat more serious for the first time this evening, Ratchet went on. "But this proves what I've been sayin' - the belt alone's no defense. Me 'n Clank've taken out a lotta satellite systems before; I knew there had t' be a way t' crack this one. Captain Waterman..."

"Yes, minister?"

"I'd like you to patrol this system until further notice. We'll set up somethin' official over the next day or two 'n get the rest o' the fleet involved. But fer now, I'd sleep a lot better knowin' yer here."

"Yes, minister," Waterman responded eagerly. "I agree with your assessment, and I believe that this is a wise precaution."

"Thanks," Ratchet replied. "Jason, I'd like ya t' talk with your pilots about settin' up patrols too. We've been sittin' under this shield for a while now, and nobody's been curious enough t' even look."

"Good idea, Ratchet," Jason answered. "I'll set something up."

The link went quiet for a moment, each busy with their own thoughts. "Well," Reg started, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. "Good job. Better to know now and get it fixed then t' find out when it's too late." He reached into his vest pocket and removed an ancient timepiece. Staring at it briefly, he faked a yawn (badly) in the direction of the vid. "We've all been busy. Mel, we can discuss your terms in more detail when you get home." The prime minister grinned. "G'night." The screen went blank.

"Ratchet," Aphelion said. "I have lost the link with New Fastoon. They have disconnected."

"That's okay," Ratchet said. "I think we're done."

"Well, almost," Melody reminded them. "We've still have to fix these satellites."

"Yeah," Jason replied. "But that'll be easier to do with the belt offline." He paused for a moment. "He _will_ take the belt offline... won't he?"

"Probably," Ratchet replied, laughing slightly.

"We sure showed them!" Ratchet was not familiar with the gloating female voice that spoke, but realized after a moment that it was probably Perigee.

"Perhaps," Aphelion replied. She did not like Perigee's attitude very much, and took this opportunity to clarify things for the younger ship. "But if they wanted to, the lombaxes could have launched an attack from the surface. Or they might have rotated the satellites to close the gap. What would you have done then?"

"Oh..." Perigee muttered. "I hadn't thought of that..." She fell silent.

"Exactly," Aphelion answered, her voice somewhat smug. "We did something they did not expect, but you always have to be ready for anything." Her voice grew significantly warmer. "And trust that your pilot knows what he's doing."

Ratchet felt somewhat warmed by her affectionate words, and was kind of grateful that she didn't add 'most of the time'...

"If I may ask," Aphelion continued. "I know that all of you had wagers with Ministers Solstice, Neutrino and Quantum. What were the stakes?"

"Well," Ratchet started, "Petrov owes me 'n Talwyn a home cooked meal."

"What?" Melody exclaimed over the link. "But you _won?_"

Ratchet chuckled. "Nothin' too complicated, just some steaks. How bad can he screw those up?"

"You'd be surprised," Melody answered ominously. "Jason, what about you?"

"Rich owes me 10,000 bolts!" Jason immediately replied. "He doesn't know it, but I'm gonna invest them towards his kit's first ship."

Rich and Nichole had recently decided that they were ready to start a family of their own. It did not take them very long: Nichole was now six weeks pregnant. While you could not tell by looking at her (yet!), Doctor Nichole Neutrino's normal high energy level was even greater than usual, and her staff at the Region Nine Med Center was begging her to take a vacation so that they could get a respite from her relentless drive. Doctor Phage, Nichole's friend, colleague and professional rival, was taking care of her and her kit during the pregnancy; he also recommended a vacation, if only to help her relax. Rich, meanwhile, had his hands full trying to keep up with her and preparing for the kit at the same time. Fortunately, Petrov had volunteered and had been helping him get things ready.

"That'll be nice," Ratchet said. A lombax's first ship was always a special memory, and by the time he or she was ready for it, that 10,000 bolt investment might actually pay for the whole thing. "What about you, Melody?"

Melody laughed lightly over the link. "Reg is taking me camping next week. Petrov and Zeke will have the kits. It'll just be me, Reg, his rocket sled, and my neuralocks." Laughter erupted over the link from all of the ships. "He's gonna learn what the term 'unconditional surrender' _really_ means..."

Ratchet could feel himself blushing underneath his fur and his flight suit's autoclimate system activated, counteracting the sudden rise in his body temperature. The laughter over the link grew even more intense as Mel, Jason, Clank and even Captain Waterman joined in. The captain's laugh sounded almost like a low grating rumble, but there was no mistaking the mirth in his voice.

Aphelion, in a rather embarrassed tone, broke in, changing the direction of the conversation. "What about you, Captain Waterman? What was your friendly wager with the ministers?"

The laughter slowly died out. Captain Waterman's voice was rather formal as he replied, "Mine was with Prime Minister Solstice." He paused for a moment, and then the ancient warbot continued. "I do not know if all of you are aware of this, but at one time, nearly one point four millennia ago, I had been drafted to serve on the Lombax Central Council. With all due respect, Ratchet, I found the experience to be quite deplorable."

Ratchet chuckled. "Trust me, I know..."

"Indeed." Waterman continued. "It was a mistake that I vowed would never happen again. And I believe that I made those groundlings sufficiently aware of just how bad an idea it was. By the time they released me from duty and gave me early parole after a mere two months of service..."

"Two months?" Ratchet interrupted eagerly, leaning forward against his restraining straps again. "How'd'ya get out of it so easy?"

There was a slight rumble from Waterman. "I made their lives a living nightmare." Another rumble from Waterman, this time a little deeper, a little more sinister. Ratchet thought about that and suppressed a shudder. "By the time they realized that they had suffered enough and released me, they were more than willing to enact one final piece of legislation on my behalf: a moratorium that exempted me from any further service on the council for a period of 100 years, with the option of extending that period at my discretion. My wager with Prime Minister Solstice has made that arrangement permanent."

Clank looked over at Ratchet, but also addressed the lombaxes on the link. "When Captain Waterman told me about his exemption during our preparations, I realized that his precedent might be beneficial for my own situation. My wager with Reg was to enact a similar moratorium for myself. As of this moment, I am also no longer at risk of being drafted to council."

The link fell into a stunned silence. Ratchet looked over to Clank, his ears drooping slightly and his eyes somewhat hurt. "Why didn'tcha tell me?" the lombax pleaded.

Clank looked at his friend and chuckled slightly. "Ratchet," he said. "As I have stated before, and while I know you will not want to hear this, I am truly rather pleased that you were drafted to council. Minister Gaiden and Petrov were completely correct in their assessment: you are a 'natural'. And I sincerely believe that your involvement in the Lombax Central Council has been beneficial both for your people and for yourself, even though you do not wish to acknowledge that fact."

Ratchet groaned, his ears falling even further.

"He's right, you know," Jason said quietly. Then he sighed. "But I think we both settled a little too cheap on this one..."

The satellite defense belt above the lombaxes flickered and faded, the power dropping to a minimal level. The tips of the active satellites barely glowed, and the energy discharges reduced to the minimum necessary to hold the defense grid in place.

"I guess Rich turned off the belt after all," Ratchet sighed. "Come on, let's get this over with 'n go home."

* * *

The deep midnight blues began to slowly brighten, with the dusty reds and oranges reflecting from a thin layer of cirrus clouds filling the sky to the far horizon hinting at the oncoming start of another day. Pinpoint stars faded into the background, unable to compete with the gradual onset of dawn. A gentle breeze, laden with scents of thorntree, dust and just a hint of ozone wafted through the open oversized bedroom window, far above the machine shops and craft complexes that formed the bulk of the Region Nine city center. At this early hour, there were no people moving on the pedways and barely any air traffic above the streets. A hush filled the city below, as though waiting for the sun to trigger the new cycle of activity.

Ratchet took a deep breath of the chill morning air, stretched and opened his eyes. The lombax was accustomed to getting up early, the stillness and gently growing light of dawn always awakening him, even though their northeast bedroom window faced away from the sunrise. A gentle smile made its way onto his muzzle as he turned over in bed to face Talwyn. Her back was toward him, and from the slow, peaceful rhythm of her breathing, she had not awakened yet. This was not unusual.

The lombax reached out with his bare hand and gently stroked her exposed right side. She stirred slightly, and Ratchet moved forward, kissing her gently on the nape of her neck. "Good morning," he whispered.

Talwyn stirred more forcefully and waved her right hand slightly in the air in front of her. "Go'way..." she muttered. Without opening her eyes, she groped around for the blankets and drew them tightly around her neck and body as if in defense against this harbinger of morning.

Ratchet's grin grew a little bit wider. Very carefully, he turned in bed again, slowly slipping away from Talwyn's warmth. Sliding out from the soft linen sheets, Ratchet gradually stood, naked in the cool semi-darkness. He shivered slightly as the sudden change in temperature caused his fur to bristle reflexively, trapping his body heat against his skin. Moving to the open window, he adjusted the optical filters, blocking out the gradually increasing light from the sky around them. As quietly as he could, the lombax moved to the desk, grabbed his gloves and cap from its surface and tiptoed to the door. Talwyn's breathing had already returned to its previous quiet cycle. Nodding to himself, Ratchet activated the door, stepped backward into the hall and sealed the bedroom once again.

Now that Ratchet was no longer in danger of waking his mate, the lombax began to chuckle to himself. Turning, he walked the few paces to the open bathroom door at the end of the hall and closed it behind him.

Talwyn was just so unpredictable, Ratchet thought to himself as he activated the illumination filaments, placed his cap and gloves on the shelf and sat down to use the sanitation unit. In the evenings, she would tell him that she wanted him to wake her up. Every morning. No matter what. Ratchet shook his head slightly thinking about it. So, he woke her up every morning, just like she asked. Or tried to.

Some days, Talwyn would actually wake up; they would go out onto the terrace, watch the sun rise and then they would have a nice breakfast together. More often, she would awaken, but lie in bed dozing for a while, relaxing and reading for a few hours in solitude. And then there were days like today, when she would tell him to go away or mutter something obscene. Over the year and a half that they had been bonded, Ratchet had learned (somewhat painfully) that when Talwyn told him to leave, he should do so. Immediately. The first (and only) time he persisted in trying to wake her up, Talwyn reached around, grabbed a rather sensitive bit of his anatomy and squeezed. By the time Ratchet had escaped, she had already fallen back to sleep and had no memory of the encounter afterward. He was sore for days.

Ratchet shook his head again and laughed quietly to himself. Putting his hand on the electrostatic cleaning sphere, he stood as the tingling blue plasma field enveloped him, cleaning his body. Talwyn was just so unpredictable, he thought. The thing is, there was no pattern; nothing he found that would give any hint at what she would be like when she first woke up. She was a puzzle, and there was nothing that teased at his lombax nature more than a mystery waiting to be solved. _ding_

The lombax stretched again, scratched his head at the base of his ears, crossed to the shelf and put on his gloves and neural matrix cap. His eyes unfocused slightly as he searched through his manifestor, selecting a highly customized exercise suit. Ratchet sighed slightly to himself as he slipped on the soft grey bottoms, forcing his large feet through the elasticized cuffs and threading his tail through the appropriate opening. Pulling the long sleeved top over his head, careful so his ears did not catch on the collar, his eyes once again noticed the slight glistening of the metallic weave embedded in the fabric. The thing that made this suit special was that it was gravimetrically enhanced: with a single command from his neural matrix, he could adjust its weight from a natural light fabric to the immense heft of heavy steel plate armor and beyond. Lately, it was the only thing keeping his exercise routines interesting...

On that somewhat negative thought, Ratchet put on his backpack harness and looked at himself in the display screen. The lombax noticed that his fur was sticking up in a number of places, and he seriously needed a good brushing. His ears drooping slightly, Ratchet decided not to bother. He was going to take a hydroshower after his workout anyway, so a bit of fur out of place wasn't all that big a deal. Grabbing a Dentapak from the open carton beneath the panel, he slowly chewed and swallowed the vaguely mint flavored dental taffy. Ratchet looked up at the display once again, noticing that the trace of silver edging the stripes on his ears seemed a little more pronounced. With a sigh, the lombax turned off the illumination filaments, opened the door and walked down the hall to the living area, pausing briefly to grab his display pad from the kitchenette table in passing.

Sitting on the couch overlooking the terrace, he manifested a pair of sturdy boots and began putting them on, his eyes and mind focused on the day unfolding on the terrace in front of him and on his personal calendar displayed on the pad. There were a few reminders: a recurring memo not to make any excuses and to complete his morning workout, a reminder to check out the dome while he was there, a new scheduled entry for yet another council meeting... The list went on. There were a few new messages too. Many of them were just junk: advertisements for new weapon enhancements, a request for an endorsement deal. But two messages in particular caught his attention.

The first one was from Petrov, apologizing for being such a poor sport about their wager. He said that he was just angry that any shot made it through the belt and actually struck New Fastoon. The retired general blamed it on too many bad memories of similar bombardments in Polaris after the Betrayal. Petrov went on to say that he checked with the Dysons; they were extremely grateful for Ratchet's 'help' and were already moving their herds into the new containment pen. Petrov mentioned that the Dysons wanted him to stop by Region 1 when he could and see their herd first hand. Petrov also asked Ratchet to contact him later today to set up dinner plans.

The second message was something... different. It was marked as originating from the Lombax Central Council, but it did not have the standard headers and format that the rest of his messages did, and was listed as 'utmost priority'. Curious at what it could be, Ratchet opened the note.

"_Ratchet Neutrino, also known as Ratchet of Veldin,_" the note began. It appeared to be some kind of official form letter, with Ratchet's name inserted as required. "_The Lombax Central Council requires your confidential assistance on this Selection Day. Who do you believe is the most suited to represent the lombax people as the next Lombax Prime Minister? Please select now._"

The strange thing was that the message appeared to be interactive. Ratchet could not close the note, move to the next message or do anything else with his display tablet; the LCC form letter remained his only active item, locking his controls.

Ratchet shrugged to himself. "Reg Solstice is the lombax prime minister..." he muttered.

The message must have tied into the audio inputs on the display pad.

"_Acknowledged. Your selection has been registered. Thank you for your participation._"

The message closed, returning control of the pad to Ratchet. There was no longer any trace of the form letter in the lombax's records. Ratchet searched for a few minutes, but there was no confirmation, no original, no reply, no archives, nothing. It was as though the message, having heard what it wanted, deleted itself leaving no trace behind. Weird.

Ratchet left a quick note for Talwyn, apologizing for waking her. He promised to meet her at her office and take her out to lunch around noon. Once this was completed and sent, Ratchet triggered a low level diagnostic on his message center, just in case there were any rogue programs left behind.

The sound of muffled metal footsteps caught Ratchet's attention. He looked over his shoulder and saw Clank walk into the kitchenette.

"Good morning, Ratchet," he said. "You are awake very early. Did you have a good evening?"

Ratchet nodded, grinning slightly. His friend greeted him every morning in almost the exact same way. The words might vary from time to time, but the meaning was still the same.

"'Morning, Clank," Ratchet replied. "Very good, thanks. How 'bout you?"

Clank nodded slightly. "It was very enjoyable, Ratchet," Clank answered. "I told mom that we won our respective wagers. She was very pleased for us both."

"Cool," Ratchet said, his eyes sparkling a little. Even a dimension away, Clank was still in regular contact with his 'mom', the sentry robot manufacturing center on Quartu. Ratchet had to admit an occasional twinge of envy - it must be nice knowing where you came from like that. Manifesting his omniwrench, the lombax swung it through the air in front of him, trying to dredge up some enthusiasm. "Ya up fer a bit of exercise?" he asked, already certain of the answer.

"Yes, Ratchet," Clank replied. "I see that you are already prepared. Given your choice of gravimetric gear, I suspect that you intend to increase the difficulty level of the simulation again." Clank moved across the living area to stand next to Ratchet.

"Yeah," the lombax sighed. Standing up, Ratchet used his neural matrix to activate the suit, increasing its weight to that of neutronium - the heaviest setting available. Clank attached himself to the connecting bolt on the backpack straps and Ratchet staggered slightly. "Even at the hardest setting, it's still waaay too easy." It took a few seconds for the lombax to adjust to magnified weight of the suit, but once he adapted, he was able to easily move through the apartment to the outer door.

Ratchet and Clank left the apartment, the door closing behind them. The lombax turned toward the deputy station, but was somewhat stunned to find it unmanned. While there were a few times he had caught the deputy away from his desk on a personal errand or in the bathroom down the hall, this time the station was completely vacant with no sign of anyone on duty. Since he moved to New Fastoon, this was the first time that Ratchet had ever seen that desk empty.

"This is unusual," Clank noted. "Were you aware that the deputy was unavailable today?"

"No," Ratchet replied. "Weird..." Carrying the robot on his backpack straps, he walked to the teleporter pad. Climbing on, he looked over his shoulder and asked, "Clank, have ya ever heard o' somethin' called 'Selection Day'?"

The scanner arms shot up from the platform, and they vanished in a flash of energy.

* * *

Ratchet moved very slowly, tightly hugging the instastone exterior wall of the Azimuth Memorial Museum on his right. Carrying his heavily upgraded judicator in both hands, he listened intently for any indication of where the drophyd dropship might be hovering. Nothing. All he heard was the sound of distant explosions, most of them from his planted seeker mines or from the feeble attempts of the drophyds to get to his position. Either way, they were not important at this point. He was almost finished - just a few dozen cubits and one dropship to go.

The lombax turned to face the wall, primed his weapon and took a deep breath. Ratchet counted three long and slow heartbeats before leaping to his left, pulling the trigger and leaping back to cover. He heard the guided rocket explode as it struck the unseen target, followed by a series of familiar secondary explosions as the ammunition and weapons in the dropship blew up. There was a loud crash.

Ratchet stepped away from the safety of the wall and casually turned the corner. The drophyd dropship, or more precisely what was left of it, was scattered in mounds of burning rubble on the pedway in front of him, the thick choking smoke coiling upward in ribbons to the cloudy grey sky. Being careful not to step on any hot metal fragments, the lombax quickly walked along the face of the building, into the main entrance to the complex.

The inside of the museum was cool and dark, but that was to be expected since primary power had been offline from the early stages of the simulation. It really didn't matter; Ratchet knew the way from here by memory. Turning through a series of displays, various pedestals, dioramas and artifacts, the lombax trudged along, not seeing the history and relics of his people arrayed around him. Instead, his eyes were diverted over his shoulder to look back at Clank.

"Ya know," Ratchet said. "I think Aphelion was right about turnin' the satellites. That woulda made things tough."

"Indeed," Clank replied. "The satellites could also have been turned inward, to attack us as we waited below the shield plane."

"Hmmm..." Ratchet mumbled, lost in thought as he approached the dimensionator exhibit. "That's a good one. I'll tell Rich 'n get the CALR t' check into it."

The lombax came to a stop at the pedestal housing the dimensionator in its case. Without a thought, Ratchet manifested his omniwrench and swung, smashing the thick protective glass. All that was left was to grab the amplification matrix from beneath the base of the display, install the three and three-quarters centicubit hexagonal washer into the dimensionator, exile the drophyds and end the simulation. After that, the lombax planned to take a quick hydroshower, wander around the dome for a while and head over to Talwyn's office for lunch. Reaching down to open the amplification matrix vault, Ratchet shook his head and cursed quietly to himself. Even with the gravimetric suit weighing heavily against him, his heart rate was barely elevated. With a sigh at how easy this was getting, Ratchet retrieved the washer and moved towards the pedestal, the cubes of broken safety glass crunching under his booted feet.

"Uh, Ratchet!" Clank called out urgently, his tone of voice indicating that something big and bad was right behind them.

"Almost done, Clank," Ratchet replied, not looking up. He reached for the dimensionator.

There was a sudden crackling noise and the smell of ozone filled the air as a bolt of electricity shot out from the darkness surrounding them, striking Ratchet on his right shoulder, spinning the lombax around and knocking him backward by several cubits. Off balance, Ratchet tripped over some debris, fell face down on the floor and skidded to a painful stop. His fur was fully bristled and static discharged to the floor as he got his gloved hands beneath his body and pushed himself up with a groan.

"Ratchet!" Clank called out again.

The lombax paid a bit more attention this time. Ratchet rolled, scrambled forward and pressed himself tightly against the backdrop of one of the museum displays. With his heart pounding in his chest, Ratchet's eyes searched the darkness in front of him, the tips of his ears quivering as he tried to hear something, anything, that would give away the location of his attacker. The scent of ozone quickly faded, replaced by the somewhat less pleasant odor of scorched fur. Whoever, _whatever_ was out there, it was no hologram: that blast was very real.

"End simulation," he called out. There was no response from the holodome computer. "Override!" he shouted. Nothing happened.

There was a congested chuckle in the darkness somewhere to the lombax's left. "That would've been too easy..." a familiar voice answered from the shadows.

Ratchet's jaw dropped open in shock. "Zeke?" he called into the darkness as his eyes continued to scan for any signs of movement.

"Yup," Zeke Wavelength replied. Petrov's father-in-law had been an instructor at The Academy and an excellent adventurer in his younger days. After his last parole from the Lombax Central Council (with Ratchet filling his seat), the old lombax had semi-retired to the relative quiet of playing with Reg's kits and tutoring advanced planetary exploration to senior Academy staff and students. "You know what your problem is?" Zeke's voice sounded closer.

"Other than you shootin' at me?" Ratchet shouted back. He saw another diorama in the distance. "No, not really," he continued. The lombax quickly and quietly tried to move away to his right, to get both better cover and a better angle to see where Zeke was.

He was only exposed for a moment, but it was enough. Another surge of electricity shot out of the darkness, this time hitting Ratchet on his left side. Ratchet yelped slightly and was thrown hard to his right by the force of the blast, knocking him into another display. He quickly crawled forward and around it as fast as he could, taking cover behind the figure of a large lombax and some kind of control wheel. The smell of scorched fur was even stronger than before and a slight trace of smoke wisped upward from his body. Ratchet struggled to get his breathing under control.

"Your problem," Zeke said in a voice as calm as though he was teaching a class to his Academy students, "is that you're getting bored."

Ratchet shook his head forcefully, trying to clear the pain from his mind. He recognized the weapon - it was a tesla claw, one of his personal favorites from when he was younger. He used to have one, but got rid of it since Gadgetron ammo was so hard to get around here... The lombax shook his head again, forcing himself to concentrate on his surroundings. Glancing around, he was not even sure where he was at the moment; this display was completely unfamiliar.

Zeke continued to calmly lecture the younger lombax. "I'll bet you've done this simulation a hundred times. A thousand. And I'd be willing to bet that you don't even know where you are right now..."

Ratchet cursed quietly to himself, crouching down even lower. In the near total darkness, Zeke could somehow see him.

"For your information, you're crouched behind the time controller of the Azimuth Temporal Stabilization exhibit. Waaaay before your time. Literally. But like I was saying, you're bored." There was another congested chuckle. "Are you bored now?" Zeke teased.

"No!" Ratchet shouted back, digging in his manifestor for his mag-net cannon. He carefully climbed to a ready crouch behind the display. Zeke's bantering had given away his location: the old coot was about ten degrees to Ratchet's right, roughly thirty-five cubits away. Ratchet took a deep breath to steady himself, then jumped out from his cover, firing a mag-net directly at Zeke. "Not in the least!" he shouted.

In the light from the electrical discharges of the mag-net, Ratchet watched as the thin containment strands enveloped a toy land wander in the distance. The shocks were very low power (Ratchet had deliberately downgraded his mag-net cannon long ago for use as a non-lethal weapon), but they were more then sufficient to destroy the audio replicator attached with a lump of chemical fuser to the remote controlled toy's whip antenna. The lombax's eyes open wide as he realized the trap for what it was. "Damn..." was all he could manage to say before another tesla bolt struck him squarely in the chest.

Ratchet was lifted from his feet and thrown backward several cubits. The back of his head hit the instastone exterior wall of the museum with a resounding crack, and he slumped to the ground, dazed, electric currents causing his muscles to twitch violently. He must have lost consciousness for a moment, because he suddenly saw Clank detached from his connecting bolt, standing defensively in front of him. "Zeke, cease this immediately!" Clank demanded in a rather stern voice. "Ratchet is injured."

"End simulation!" Zeke shouted. The Azimuth Memorial Museum, displays, everything, simply vanished. Including the wall Ratchet was leaning heavily against. The lombax quickly reached backward to stabilize himself, then moved to a more comfortable sitting position. He still felt a little disoriented. "Lights!" Zeke shouted again.

The simulation dome returned to normal lighting. Ratchet blinked, squinted and saw Zeke at the far end of the dome, rapidly hurrying towards him. The lombax's visible fur was almost completely white, silver and grey with age, and his steps seemed somewhat stiff, as though his speed was both unaccustomed and painful. Zeke was wearing a dark grey heavy canvas work shirt and jeans. More importantly, he was also wearing a stalking visor, similar to what Rich and Tim had when playing as bodyguards for Venus and Clank a while back. Ratchet remembered that they were IR and UV sensitive - no wonder Zeke could see him in the dark. Great idea, he muttered, wishing he had thought of it too.

The tesla claw vanished from Zeke's hand as he got near the pair. "Are you okay, Ratchet?" Reaching the fallen youngster, Zeke offered his hand to help the minister to his feet.

"Yeah," Ratchet answered weakly. His head hurt a bit, but it was nothing serious. Feeling his skull with his gloved hands, Ratchet noticed that the pain was already beginning to subside, probably due to the nanotech in his system. But there would be a nasty bump later. He glared at Zeke suspiciously. "What in Fastoon was that all about?"

Ratchet grasped Zeke's hand, and tried to get up. Zeke struggled for a second as he was pulled forward and off-balance, saying, "Dammit, Ratchet, how much do you weigh?"

'Oh yeah,' Ratchet mumbled under his breath. The lombax deactivated the gravimetric enhancement so that the exercise gear he was wearing was back to the weight of normal fabric. "No wonder I was so slow," he muttered as Zeke pulled him to his feet.

"Speed wouldn't've helped you," Zeke said, shaking his head. He grinned widely, with a combination of both amusement and playfulness. "Petrov told me you were having trouble with the simulation. I figured I'd break in and watch; to see if I could find out what was wrong." Zeke chuckled again. "I did."

Ratchet looked the old 'bax over from tip to tuft, noting the mischief in his olive green eyes. Zeke was known for his somewhat surreal and random antics, especially among the deputies of the LDM that used to have the somewhat risky duty of guarding him. "So why the tesla claw?" Ratchet protested. He was already starting to feel a bit more like himself, but the odor of burnt fur hung heavily in the air around him.

Zeke looked at Ratchet, the expression on his face perfectly innocent. "I wanted to make sure you listened."

Clank, who had been watching this exchange somewhat warily, relaxed significantly and chuckled at that statement. It was not the first time that his friends had needed to take somewhat extreme measures to guarantee Ratchet's attention.

Ratchet laughed as well. "Ya coulda just neuralocked me like everyone else..."

* * *

Ratchet stood in one of the hydroshower stalls in the male's public changing room. The service ring around the holodome had many such facilities available for its patrons, ranging from hydroshowers, sanitation units, equipment repair, weapon and ammunition sales, strategic consulting, armor fitting, gourmet restaurants (Jacek's most recent location), etc. The lombax had the hydro set to extra hot, steam rising up and filling the tiny chamber. Priming the cleaning agent, the jets spurted a thick foam at him, providing a concentrated detergent that deeply penetrated his fur down to the skin. Ratchet massaged the foam in wherever he could conveniently reach, rubbing the aches from his muscles, especially at the points where he was slammed against the various walls and displays. Looking over himself as the hydro ran clear once more, Ratchet studied the three scorched patches in his fur. Those would take a while to grow back properly, but they were not really all that bad.

In fact... All in all... He felt... Kinda... Good! It seemed strange, and it was hard to admit to himself, but Ratchet felt better than he had in weeks. As the aches and pains drained away with the hot water and steam, the lombax found that he was grinning to himself like a little kit.

"Your problem," Zeke shouted from one of the benches in the changing area, "is that you're getting bored."

"You said that already," Ratchet yelled back, switching the controls to airblast, the jets of heated air pulling the excess moisture from his fur. He grabbed his brush from the hook near the entrance and started fluffing his fur. "Just before you started blastin' me."

Zeke's congested chuckle was lost in the rushing air jets, but the happiness in his voice was quite obvious. "You were in a rut," he said. "I broke the security codes and watched you for a while. You weren't even trying. You knew what was coming, when, and how to defeat it."

Ratchet turned off the airblast, opened the stall and walked to the changing room. Dropping his brush on the bench next to Clank, the lombax retrieved his gloves and matrix from the public secure storage lockers. "Yeah," Ratchet replied, thinking back to the simulation. "I guess you're right." He put his autocleaned exercise suit (with three scorch marks that didn't autoclean and might require repair later on) and brush back into his manifestor, selecting a well worn comfortable shirt and a really old pair of jeans with a patch on one knee from a hoverbike tumble a few months prior. He began to dress.

"You don't _guess_," Zeke replied, shaking his head. "I counted at least four times when you didn't even scout for the enemy - you just knew and fired." Zeke looked back and forth between Ratchet and Clank. "No challenges. No surprises." A grin broke out on his muzzle and he stared directly into Ratchet eyes, his own olive ones twinkling with amusement. "So I thought I'd give you one." He chuckled again. "Did you enjoy it?"

Clank stared up at Ratchet. With one look at his friend's expression, he knew what the lombax's answer would be. And, in a strange way that defied all logic, he had to agree.

"Yeah," Ratchet answered. "I did. Thanks!"

"Anytime!" Zeke replied. "You've just been running this simulation too much. Your planet, your program, your rules. No wonder you're getting sloppy."

"What do you recommend?" Clank asked.

"Mix it up a bit," Zeke answered. "Throw it through a randomizer. Different planets, uncertain goals, various targets. That kind of thing. Exploration! Not just raw battle; that only goes so far, dulls your senses after a while. Try searching for an unknown relic in a lost city or something."

"How I do that?" Ratchet asked, intrigued by the idea, but stumped as to how to make it happen. Now dressed, he sat down and put his boots on. "Ember 'n I spent a lotta time puttin' this together, gettin' the details right..."

"That's just it," Zeke interrupted. "Too much detail. It doesn't have to be perfect - it's just got to work. Tap into the central datastore and generate some landscapes. There are hundreds of planets we've recorded over the years. Mix and match the environments, goals and tactics, then try to survive!" Zeke's congested chuckle took a slightly nasty turn. "It'll be a hell of a lot more fun!"

Ratchet turned to Clank. "Is that even possible?"

Clank thought about it for a long while, nearly three hundred clock cycles, before nodding to his friend. "It may be possible. I will have to consult with Colonel Caliber to confirm the details, but I believe that it can be done."

"When you get it working," Zeke said, "Let me know. I want to use it myself. I'm getting rusty!"

_That was RUSTY?_ Ratchet thought to himself. The old lombax had outmaneuvered him every step of the way. Maybe Zeke would be willing to give him a bit of tutoring...

Zeke turned to Ratchet. "Petrov told me what you did last night." The grin left Zeke's muzzle and he grew serious. "Thank you! I've been trying to tell them for years now that they were too dependent on that stupid belt." Zeke stared into Ratchet's eyes, his ears drooping very slightly. "I was never the pilot you are, Ratchet, so I never even thought about taking it out to prove it."

"It wasn't just me..." Ratchet started to protest, intending to tell his friend that it was Jason and Mel too. Not to mention Aphelion, Perigee and Clank. But Zeke cut him off with a wave of his gloved hand.

"I kept telling them that technology was no replacement for good old fashioned diplomacy and ships in the sky."

"We are also recommending several enhancements to the satellites," Clank added.

"Yeah," Zeke said. "They'll help too, I'm sure." Looking back at Ratchet, Zeke's eyes turned questioning. "Why the warning shot? Petrov didn't say..."

"The Dysons wanted a pen for their herd," Ratchet answered. Then he laughed quietly, with a somewhat grim note to his chuckle. "It seemed easier than askin' fer permission."

Zeke's eyes open wide and he started laughing. Hard. Soon, he was gasping for breath, struggling to get air into his lungs.

Ratchet grew very concerned. "You okay?"

Zeke raised his hand and nodded. After about a minute of laughter, Zeke's congested, wheezing breathing slowed to a more normal flow. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered.

Ratchet shook his head. "You sounded like Petrov... With the GBD..."

Zeke shook his head forcefully. "Nah, it's nothing like that," he answered. "Just a broken snout. And unlike your dad, I take care of it: Nichole knows all about it."

At the mention of 'his dad', Ratchet's head shot up. Then, realizing that Zeke was talking about his adopted father, Petrov, his ears drooped a little in disappointment.

Zeke noticed the younger lombax's reaction, but somewhat misinterpreted it and continued in a more somber tone. "There's nothing you can do about it. Petrov's as stubborn as a snagglebeast sometimes, so I know what you mean. I've had this most of my life. I broke my muzzle when I was really young, and it never healed right. Nichole keeps trying to talk me into 'fixing it', but she'd have to break my nose and jaw again to do it." He looked into Ratchet's eyes and with a slight wink added, "Why fix something that ain't broke?"

That cheered Ratchet back up a bit. Nodding, he agreed, "Yeah." Noticing Clank's curious gaze locked on Zeke's muzzle, Ratchet decided to ask. "How'd ya break it?"

Zeke looked away towards the hydroshower room. "I was hoverboarding... lost my horizontal stabilizers, and smashed face first into a thorntree as a kit."

Ratchet immediately started laughing again. Zeke's words took him back to his first medical exam with Nichole, when she told him that every lombax has a 'thorntree as a kit' story. It seemed that this was still the case, no matter how old the lombax was.

Zeke looked back at Ratchet, his expression somewhat sly. "Talking about getting permission, that was a nice stunt you pulled on Spiff! Classic! I wish I could've been there!"

After four years of service, Minister Spiff Gaiden's long awaited parole finally came up for discussion in the Lombax Central Council the previous month. Spiff had been looking forward to an extended program of study at The Institute, researching applied hypermathematics and theoretical accounting. As was traditional, he was present for the nomination of his successor, but he was not allowed to comment or to vote. Ratchet, Petrov and the other ministers recognized Spiff's valuable contributions to the council, and while the administratively gifted lombax could drive them to the point of insanity sometimes, they were all very sorry to see his term end. And then Ratchet had an idea...

The young minister nominated an empty chair as Spiff's replacement.

Spiff sat at the table, fury visible on his normally unemotional and stoic features. Ratchet explained, with Clank's assistance, that by nominating an empty seat, the council could vote to fill that opening at any time they chose. Looking directly into Spiff's eyes, Ratchet continued, reminding them all that the minimum parole term of one year was not really all that long, and that the council could re-draft Spiff immediately after those 360 days had passed. The lombax also added a final piece of legislation, barring Spiff from leaving the planet without an approved LDM escort, and subjecting him to all of the personal restrictions that the ministers had to deal with. An extremely amused Petrov joined in, mentioning that Spiff could come to the chamber at any time as his guest, just as Clank frequently accompanied Ratchet.

All combined, Ratchet's proposal meant that Spiff would be as restricted as any other minister was - he would be on the council in all but name for the next year, with almost certain re-drafting at the end of that time.

The legislation and nomination had passed unanimously, and Spiff stomped out of the chamber muttering profanities under his breath. It wasn't until two weeks later that Spiff, through Clank as an intermediary, apologized to Ratchet for his behavior and congratulated him on the brilliant legal move. While Spiff did not like to admit it, he told Clank privately that he was somewhat glad to be unofficially involved; this way, Ratchet, Petrov and the others couldn't screw things up too badly while he was gone.

"Thanks," Ratchet replied. "Spiff might be a pain sometimes, but he's really great fer the job. The council'd be lost without 'im."

Clank nodded his agreement enthusiastically. The robot had seen enough council sessions to know just how badly things would have deteriorated without Spiff's guidance.

The thoughts of the council brought something back to Ratchet's mind. "Zeke, did you get a really weird message this morning..."

"Selection Day," Zeke interrupted. "Yeah." His eyes were full of mischief as he stared into Ratchet's face.

"What was that all about?" Ratchet asked.

"Every lombax gets that message at the end of the prime minister's term," Zeke explained. He chuckled again, somewhat distorted by his broken muzzle. "It's nothing to worry about... Really..." His voice trailed off.

"I mentioned Reg, 'n it took that as my vote," Ratchet said. "Who'd ya pick?"

"I didn't yet," Zeke said. "I didn't open the message. I wanted to check out a few things first, in person. I figured I'd select this afternoon."

Ratchet shifted on the bench and looked at both Zeke and Clank, "Reg never told me his term was over."

"He didn't know," Zeke interrupted. "The term's random, two to six years. Well, twenty four to seventy two months technically; the date keeps shifting so no one knows when Selection Day will hit."

"For what purpose?" Clank asked, somewhat puzzled.

Zeke grinned. "So no one will know. No throwing the selection, no media blackouts, no hiding at the last minute."

"Hiding?" Ratchet asked.

"Yeah," Zeke chuckled. "Who'd want to be prime minister? It's almost as bad as being drafted to council!" Zeke grinned at Ratchet again, and there was something about that smile that made him a bit uncomfortable. But then Zeke changed the subject completely. "So, do you and Clank have any plans for today?"

"We were gonna stop by Al's RoboShack. Petrov finally talked Al inta openin' a shop here, 'n Al asked me t' keep an eye on the construction. It's that new place next t' Jacek's in the support ring. Al's also lookin' fer someone t' run the place, since he won't be in Leonid that much." Zeke nodded. He was already wearing one of Al's neural matrices and knew how talented the engineer was. "From there," Ratchet continued, "Clank 'n I'll take Talwyn t' lunch.

"Later on, I've gotta give Petrov a call, 'n I wanna talk t' Rich - Sasha called me the other day; her father's getting... strange..."

Zeke looked at Ratchet very confused. "Strange how?"

"Well, he's always been a little... out there..."

"When License To Terminate was released," Clank interrupted, explaining, "the studio developed a marketing campaign based on Ratchet's character being brutally murdered by my character." He looked over to Ratchet, the memory of the recording of that scene still etched in his mind. "According to his daughter, President Phyronix may believe that Ratchet was actually terminated."

"What an idiot," Zeke muttered.

Clank reproached him. "He is still the President of the Solana galaxy and a highly respected member of their governing body..."

"So what?" Zeke continued, shaking his head. "He's still an idiot."

Ratchet chuckled. "Yeah... Kinda..."

"This is an extremely serious matter," Clank insisted. "If the president of Solana is becoming psychologically unstable, confusing fiction and reality, the repercussions for his entire galaxy could be dire."

Ratchet hung his head, ears drooping. He sighed sadly. "Yeah. Sasha's really worried about 'im." Looking up to Zeke, he continued. "That's why I wanna see Rich. I've gotta go t' Solana 'n talk t' 'im - in person. Let 'im know I'm not really dead."

Zeke broke out laughing again. "Only _you_ could get yourself into a predicament like that! You have to prove you're still alive in order to prevent an intergalactic war. Classic!" Clank glared at Zeke, and after a fairly long while the old lombax's laughter quieted down and he became more somber. "Yeah, I know, I know..." he said. "Prob'bly for the best." His eyes took on that mischievous twinkle again. "You might want to wait 'til tomorrow for that one, though."

"Why?" Ratchet asked.

The grin on Zeke's muzzle widened immensely. "Oh, you'll see..." he hinted.

Clank widened one optic, trying to fit together Zeke's behavior. "Does this have anything to do with today being 'Selection Day'?"

The tips of Zeke's ears were now twitching, and the old lombax was visibly trying to contain his mirth. "Yup," was all he said.

There was silence in the changing room for nearly a minute before Ratchet finally couldn't take it any longer. "You're not gonna tell us, are you?"

"Nope," Zeke replied, smiling at Ratchet. After a few moments, he added, "You're a bright kit; you'll figure it out." Zeke started chuckling again. "It's too late anyway."

* * *

Ratchet squirmed slightly on the plain wooden seat, the uncomfortable thorntree wood armchair swaying unsteadily. The lombax was leaning far back, balanced on the chair's rear two legs only, his head upturned toward the ceiling, his gloved hands clasped behind his neck. From this precarious perch, Ratchet stared upward at the stacks of crates piled high around them. The thick layers of insect webs, nests, sawdust and shed fur along the edges of the crates indicated both their age and the fact that they had probably not been moved since The Flight, maybe even longer. Ratchet teetered slightly, lifted his booted feet from the floor and rested them along the structural brace between the chair's upraised front legs. His mind almost completely numb, the lombax let out a loud, bored sigh. He just couldn't understand how Talwyn could stand it!

Talwyn was seated at a large metal desk in front of him. She was sitting on a more comfortable leather padded chair, well worn from long term use, comparing printed documentation to information she had compiled on her display pad. Every now and then she would glance up from her work to stare at her mate in amusement before returning her eyes to the task at hand.

Clank was standing next to Talwyn's desk, his optics scanning the objects on the surface. There were a few still images, including a duplicate of Ratchet fixing Reg's hoverbike; one of Ratchet (wearing his old tracer), Talwyn, Zephyr, Cronk and himself, taken by Petrov soon after they moved to New Fastoon; a recent one of Venus and himself, with Ratchet in his Jeeves costume, Rich and Tim on either side dressed as bodyguards standing behind them; one of Talwyn, Zephry and Cronk taken by Ratchet on the Alpha asteroid with the Apogee Space Station in the background; one of Max Apogee, holding Talwyn as a child and prominently displaying a lombax artifact.

There were also a number of somewhat more unusual objects collected there as well. The lombax artifact from her father's picture, now known to be a map to Rykan V, was being used as a paperweight near the front of the desk. Underneath another stack of hard copy readouts was what appeared to be a severed lombax tail, faded and desiccated over many centuries, coiled in a loop and woven together with what might have been ancient magnetic dataribbon. There was also an old skull that looked to be lombax in origin, but had somewhat distorted proportions around the muzzle and brow line; several small glass vials, each one containing a single thorn snapped from a thorntree, clearly labeled with the coordinates and planet of origin; a cube shaped genetic analysis crystal, containing a drop of what appeared to be blood in its center. A quick pulse of Clank's probe confirmed that the contents were indeed lombax blood, and matched Ratchet's specific genetic mapping. Clank glanced over at his friend.

The lombax was still perched in the chair; his eyes were half-closed as he stared at the ceiling, his tail lying limp on the floor behind him. He took a deep breath and produced an even louder sigh.

Talwyn looked up from her work and quietly put down the display pad and hard copy. She glanced quickly at Clank to get his attention, then picked up the map from her desk. "Catch!" she shouted as she lobbed the artifact underhand at her mate.

Ratchet startled, his head snapping in her direction. His eyes opened really wide and his hands unclasped from behind his neck. Talwyn had deliberately thrown the map slightly behind Ratchet, forcing him to adjust his weight and position in order to catch it. Thrown off balance from leaning back too far, the lombax's arms and legs flailed wildly in a blur of motion as Ratchet launched himself forward from the falling chair. He caught the map in his gloved right hand, and landed with a loud thud on his large widespread feet, his knees flexed to absorb the impact and his left hand braced on the edge of Talwyn's desk for stability. The chair was knocked backward by Ratchet's movements, and landed with a clatter a few cubits behind him.

The lombax pulled himself into a more natural standing position, and smiled at her, the tips of his ears perked. He brushed his left hand against his shirt and offered her the artifact. "Here you go..."

Talwyn just shook her head in amazement; Ratchet's reflexes were astounding. "Thanks," she said, taking the map from him and putting it back on her desk. Looking her mate over from tip to tail closely for the first time since his arrival nearly an hour ago, Talwyn couldn't help but notice how his eyes seemed to sparkle even in this poor light, how his ears were a bit perkier than normal and how his tail was lashing around (when not bored silly). His recent acrobatics couldn't really account for this. "Okay," she asked. "You're in a really good mood. What happened? Still gloating about your shield games?"

Ratchet looked into her eyes and his smile widened. She knew him soooo well. And he knew she could read him as easily as she read the pad in front of her. But she was only partially right this time...

"Yeah," Ratchet answered, grinning widely. "That's part of it."

Talwyn's eyes widened a bit. There was obviously more to this... "...and..." she prompted.

Thinking back on it, the lombax couldn't believe how happy he felt. Zeke may have really been on to something. Keeping his eyes focused on Talwyn so he could watch her reaction, he continued, "...'n Zeke took a coupla shots at me today."

The inquisitive stare dissolved from Talwyn's face, leaving behind stunned confusion. "What?" she asked rather forcefully.

"Zeke broke inta the dome 'n took a few shots at me." Ratchet replied.

The confusion hardened into a more defensive and predatory look. "Are you alright?" she asked in a concerned voice, edged with a bit of anger. She stood, leaning across the desk, hands planted wide on top of the papers and artifacts, looking at her mate closely as though inspecting him for signs of damage.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Ratchet reassured her. He didn't want Talwyn to start hunting Zeke down or anything. It was all in good fun. Sort of. "Nothin' a little nanotech couldn't fix."

There was a metallic tapping sound to Ratchet's left, and he glanced quickly at Clank. His arms were crossed, his foot was tapping impatiently and his face had that all too familiar look on it.

"Alright, Clank," Ratchet laughed. "A lotta nanotech." He turned back to Talwyn. "He's pretty good fer his age. I gotta see if he'll give me some pointers..."

Talwyn relaxed and slumped back into her chair. She hadn't realized it, but she had unconsciously manifested her blaster in her right hand; she quickly put it away before Ratchet spotted it. If Ratchet was taking it this lightly, it couldn't be anything serious. "Why on Fastoon would he do that?" she asked. "Did Petrov put him up to it?"

"I dunno," Ratchet replied. "Maybe. Zeke broke inta the dome while I was doin' my workout. He was watchin' me. Said I was bored..."

"Well, you were," Talwyn noted.

"Probably," Ratchet replied. "But not after he started chuckin' a few tesla bolts at me."

Talwyn chuckled. Zeke actually reminded her of Ratchet in a lot of ways, no wonder they got along so well. "That would change things a bit, wouldn't it?"

"Indeed!" Clank nodded. "This was the first time within five months that Ratchet had achieved his target heart rate during an exercise routine."

Talwyn laughed. Ratchet _had_ seemed a bit bored lately, but she couldn't really figure out why. If she had known this earlier, she would have gladly taken a few shots at him herself! "So what are you so happy about then; especially if the old 'bax whipped your tail?"

She really didn't mean to do it, but that comment took a little of the joy out of Ratchet's eyes. His ears did not droop, but they did stop twitching. Dejected, Ratchet muttered, "He didn't really whip my tail..."

"I believe that Zeke was able to both identify the cause of and offer a solution for Ratchet's current dilemma," Clank replied. "He provided a number of recommendations as to how to improve the exercise simulations."

Talwyn was pleased to see Ratchet perk back up with Clank's words. "Do they include getting shot at?" she asked.

"Yeah," Ratchet answered enthusiastically. "Plus it'll be more like the ol' days - exploring instead o' just fighting."

Talwyn nodded. That was something she could certainly relate to. As an explorer and archeologist herself, she knew what it felt like to be in the field, making new discoveries... And for a lombax, that was even more important.

"I'm gonna ask Zeke if he can teach me some o' his tricks," Ratchet said. "He wants t' try the new simulations too; maybe we can go on some together."

"That would be great," Talwyn said. "It sounds like fun!"

Ratchet looked at the assortment of hard copies and documents on Talwyn's desk. "Yeah," he said, still chuckling. "A lot more fun than what yer doin'."

Talwyn met his gaze. "This is important work," she replied in an even voice that hinted that the lombax was on dangerous ground.

Ratchet did not notice, however. He reached over, grabbed a hard copy at random, and glanced at it. "Sifting through gene prints?" He tossed the paper back on her desk. Turning, the lombax retrieved his chair and sat down in front of her desk, this time with all four legs on the floor.

Talwyn retrieved the specific page Ratchet had grabbed, placing it back in its original location and sequence. "I'm trying to finish my father's work," she said.

"Oh," Ratchet replied, an apologetic note in his voice. Ratchet leaned forward, his green eyes warm and affectionate. "I understand," he said sympathetically.

It was difficult for her to explain. While she realized that Ratchet would understand her wanting to finish Max's work, Ratchet was still a lombax, and this kind of tedious detailed analysis was not really in their nature. Excluding the geneticists in the CALR, that is. Talwyn picked up one of the vials from her desk. Staring at the thorntree spike inside, Talwyn tried to put it into words. "My father was always curious about where the lombaxes came from. I think these thorntrees might tell me."

Ratchet's eyes glazed over slightly. "Thorntrees?" he asked, puzzled.

She nodded. "Yes. Lombaxes move around too much to build a genetic drift map."

Ratchet had never heard of a genetic drift map before. Genetic variance, yes. But drift?

Clank could see the look in Ratchet's eyes. He turned to Talwyn, helping her to explain it in terms Ratchet would understand. "Ratchet," he said, turning back to his friend, "genetic drift is the term used for mutations occurring from generation to generation within a specific organic species. Most of these mutations are completely harmless to the individual, but with a sufficient sample size, it becomes possible to use these inherited variations to trace any individual's ancestry to a common point. Doctor Tesseract used a similar approach in an attempt to identify your father's family, but was unable to identify a match."

At the mention of his father, and of Doc T.'s research, Ratchet looked up and over to Clank. Long ago, Doc and Winston had filled him in on what they tried and why it didn't work. It was not exactly the same, but it was close enough to give the lombax a point of reference to work from. It sort of made sense now. Except for the thorntree bit. He nodded slightly, raising his right hand to his chin, thinking. "Okay. I kinda get it," Ratchet said somewhat hesitantly, pulling his hand away again. "But why thorntrees?"

Talwyn offered her fist to Clank, a grin on her face. Clank chuckled and gently bumped his own into hers. It was a minor victory, but a victory none the less. Talwyn turned to Ratchet and picked up the explanation from there. "Thorntrees and lombaxes are linked somehow. I don't know why, but your people transplant thorntrees on every planet you visit. So even though lombaxes move around a lot, the thorntrees stay where they're planted, and it's easier to track where they came from."

Ratchet's eyes opened wide. Of course. If you couldn't trace lombaxes because they moved around a lot, you could trace the trees...

Talwyn moved closer to Ratchet and dropped her voice low, as though telling him a huge secret. "Did you know that _your_ thorntree on Veldin is directly descended from a thorntree right next to the landing pads on Fastoon?"

"Really?" Ratchet asked, fascinated. "From Fastoon?"

"Yeah," she continued, sitting down and talking in her normal voice. "There are lots of other lombax planets in Polaris and a bunch in Bogon, but your tree is different. It shows none of the mutations from those lines, but has a specific one that originated on Fastoon near those pads."

"Wow..." Ratchet muttered. "So it was probably planted when I was brought there. Maybe someone on Fastoon grabbed a spike just before they took off for Veldin." It was not really a shock. Talwyn, Clank and Ratchet had always speculated that his father gave him as an infant to Max Apogee or someone else on Fastoon, along with a thorntree to plant. "So ya think ya can find out where lombaxes came from?" Ratchet asked.

"Eventually," Talwyn nodded. "The map's not done yet. There are a lot of gaps, and there are even some planets with more than one branch. That's not supposed to happen."

"Hmm..." Clank commented, looking up somewhat surprised. "You are correct, Talwyn. That is theoretically impossible in a linear system." He thought for a moment. "Is it possible that these planets were colonized multiple times, then forgotten?"

"Maybe," Talwyn said skeptically. "But some of these trees are really old. I guess it's possible."

"It sounds complicated," Ratchet said, twisting in his seat to prop his feet over the right armrest of the chair. Putting his arm across the backrest, he realized that Nick was right - it was much more comfortable this way.

"It is," Talwyn answered. "But if I do it right, I might be able to prove that lombaxes didn't originate on Fastoon like everyone thinks."

Ratchet twisted back, sitting upright. That would be a huge discovery! Lombaxes were very family oriented; it was part of their nature. Learning that their homeworld wasn't really home would be a huge shock. Ratchet could already feel his ears twitching with curiosity to learn where their real homeworld might be.

"That's why what I'm doing is so important, Ratchet," Talwyn said. Then she chuckled slightly. "And I enjoy it a little more than getting shot at." She paused, looked down at her document strewn desk, thought about it for a moment, and then quietly added, "...sometimes..."

"What's the oldest spike you've got so far?" Ratchet asked, eager to learn more.

Talwyn glanced around her desk and selected one specific thorntree sample in its glass vial. The thorn inside was an unusually bright crimson. "This is probably the oldest of them," Talwyn said. A somewhat skeptical look crossed Talwyn's face. "But something's wrong with it; it doesn't make sense." Turning the bottle in her hands she looked at the label again. "This one came from Saphria. In Leonid. That can't be right."

Ratchet started grinning again, but this time there was a bit of a leer to the expression on his muzzle. "Why didntcha just tell me ya wanted t' go back t' Saphria? We don't need 'research' as an excuse."

Talwyn dropped the thorntree sample to her desk, her smooth skin blushing heavily at Ratchet's comment.

* * *

Talwyn had cleaned off her desk, putting the items onto shelves and into storage bins located along the wall behind her chair. With the surface now clear, she and Ratchet were planning to have lunch before going on a stroll through Azimuth Park. There was, however, one slight problem...

"Jacek?" Ratchet called out through his link crystal for the fourth time.

There was no reply.

This in itself was very unusual. Jacek's restaurants were typically open from mid morning until midnight. Even if Jacek himself was busy or on vacation, he would always have someone watching his comm crystal to capture the various orders from the residents of New Fastoon. At least, that's how it usually worked.

"I can't reach him," Ratchet told her unnecessarily. He looked around at the various crates. "Is this room shielded?"

"I've never had a problem before," Talwyn replied.

"Maybe somethin' happened to 'im," Ratchet said. "Petrov'll know..." He tried his comm link again. "Petrov?"

There was no reply.

"Petrov?"

Again, nothing.

"Mel?" Talwyn said out loud into her link, trying to reach Melody Solstice. Again, nothing.

"Ratchet?" Clank asked.

"Hang on for a second, Clank," Ratchet said. "I just got a call. Ratchet here."

"I am the one calling you, Ratchet," Clank said, his voice coming to the lombax from within the room and from inside his mind via the link crystal.

"Oh..." _click_ "I guess it works..." Ratchet had another thought. He didn't like doing this, but... "Dispatch?"

"Dispatch. Please state the nature of your emergency and your link will be rerouted over priority channels." The dispatch operations center picked up, but it was only the mechanical voice of the automated triage system, not the live operator. _click_ Ratchet disconnected in a hurry; the last thing he wanted to do was activate priority channels and scare folks. Especially for something silly like this.

"Why don't we just go to the restaurant?" Talwyn asked. Jacek maintained a location in Region 9, so they could have lunch there. It would not be the same as their original plans for a quiet meal together, but it would still be good.

"Good idea," Ratchet replied. With his neural matrix, he summoned a teleporter pad.

Talwyn looked at him a little strangely. "You know," she began, "Jacek's is only a few blocks away. Why don't we just walk? You're the one that keeps complaining about not getting enough exercise."

Walk? The idea completely took Ratchet by surprise. Talwyn was right. "Uh... sure!" he said, dismissing the teleporter pad. Ratchet stood and turned his back toward Clank. "Hop on, Clank."

Clank climbed on to the backpack straps and secured the connecting bolt. As he did so, he saw the desk items on the shelves once again and began to chuckle.

"What is it, Clank?" Talwyn asked, looking over to the shelves. Ratchet turned to look also, but in twisting around he turned Clank away from the items in question.

"I was merely hypothesizing," Clank answered. "The pre-lombax skull in your collection triggered a line of speculation. As lombaxes become more tightly interconnected with their technology, as demonstrated by Ratchet's neural matrix and summoning of the teleporter, it is becoming increasingly difficult to define where the organic being ends and the technology begins." He chuckled. "Perhaps we are witnessing the next step in lombax evolution, as the organic and technology merge."

Talwyn looked at the robot thoughtfully, wondering about the possibilities and if such a thing could actually happen. Ratchet merely chuckled very uncomfortably. After a moment, he muttered defensively, "There just tools..."

Clank nodded. There was no need to pursue this line of thought at this time, but it would be amusing to consider further at a more opportune moment. "Of course, Ratchet," he said, rather unconvincingly.

Ratchet and Talwyn walked out of the door to Talwyn's office, through a hallway lined with various research offices and storage rooms, up a flight of stairs to a series of blast doors. After unlocking them with a tri-pad on the floor, the three of them passed through, entering the Azimuth Memorial Museum proper.

Talwyn led them quickly through the exhibits, but Ratchet was in a somewhat pensive mood, stopping to look at the various displays as they made their way to the exit. Many of these pedestals and dioramas were the ones that he had been hiding behind when Zeke attacked him in the simulation. They suddenly seemed more interesting and important to him, and Ratchet paused to actually read the plaques about the artifacts and people that had made their mark on lombax history.

Exiting the museum and the Tachyon Ancestral Home, Ratchet, Talwyn and Clank proceeded down the main pedway towards Jacek's restaurant and the small handful of shops that made up the Region 9 'commerce district'. While the number of shops were relatively few, especially when compared to the sprawling city of Metropolis on Kerwan, they were more than sufficient to meet the lombaxes' rather meager needs*.

(* - The lombax species had endured horrible losses during the Great War and again at the hands of Percival Tachyon during The Betrayal and subsequent Drophyd War. By the time of The Flight, there were only around 30,000 lombaxes left alive. Even now, a little more than two and a half decades later, there was a total population of roughly 50,000 lombaxes spread across the planet, with representatives and ambassadors on dozens of others. There were just not all that many lombaxes left, so there was no great need for that kind of urban support structure - yet. Fortunately, the lombax population has been growing steadily since the Flight, and while the species is still in danger of long term extinction, the situation is no longer as dire as it had been immediately after they had taken refuge on New Fastoon.)

Even so, Ratchet and Talwyn began to get very uneasy. It was not the walk or the day (sunny with traces of cirrus clouds still lingering along the eastern horizon) that bothered them. Even with the sparse population in the city, you could usually count on meeting _someone_ along the pedway. A friend, a neighbor, even a stranger; there was typically someone else wandering about. Today, other than Zeke in the closed holodome, there wasn't a single tail to be seen. Sure, a few cleaning drones conducted their business as usual, and once a sentient robot moved quickly past them in an obvious hurry, but that was it.

Probably the worst of all was the very uncomfortable feeling that they were being monitored. Ratchet had been forced to get used to this sensation ever since Rich and the other Regional Ministers set up surveillance crews to 'protect' the ministers from undefined threats. But Ratchet was usually very good at spotting these lombaxes: usually either beginning cadets or the most extremely advanced students at the Academy. The intent (ever since Ratchet almost shot at one the first time around) was that Ratchet was either very aware that he was being blatantly followed, or that the tracker was so good that Ratchet would not notice them. The minister was not aware of this, but being assigned to 'track Ratchet' was considered the ultimate test of stalking, and was the final exam for the stealth curriculum.

But these followers were also conspicuously absent. (Or just really, _really_ good!) The feeling of being watched today was a lot more vague, unfocused, as though someone had a camera drone on him. The lombax kept glancing around, expecting a GNN holocrew with Darla Gratch to appear out of nowhere and start reporting live from Leonid.

"Do you feel that?" Talwyn asked very quietly.

Ratchet merely nodded in reply.

Clank's antenna probe pulsed. "I do not detect any organic life on the pedways, but I am picking up approximately thirty five lombaxes monitoring us from the surrounding buildings. The number is fluctuating, and the surveillance appears to be neither coordinated, nor consistent."

"Maybe they're just curious," Talwyn commented. "Could it have something to do with your attack on the shield?"

Ratchet shook his head. "It shouldn't," he answered. "If there was an alert 'r somethin', they woulda told us."

"Perhaps it has something to do with today being 'Selection Day'," Clank stated.

Talwyn dropped a step or two behind Ratchet so she could look at Clank optics. "Why do you say that, Clank?"

The robot would have shrugged, but he typically retracted his arms when riding on Ratchet's back in this manner. He tilted his head slightly instead. "It is the only other event out of the ordinary that I am aware of at this time."

"Alright," Ratchet asked, sounding somewhat frustrated by the unusual stillness around him. Nothing set him on edge more than unexplained silence. "What _exactly_ is 'Selection Day'? Can ya tap inta the hyperband from here?"

"Of course, Ratchet," Clank answered. He dropped from the connecting bolt, his antenna pulsing. Ratchet turned to stare at him as well. Talwyn's left hand found Ratchet's right and they held hands for a few moments, some of the stress of the situation diffused by their touch.

"Apparently," Clank began, "'Selection Day' refers to the lombax customs surrounding the selection of the new prime minister."

"Zeke told us that much," Ratchet said with a faint chuckle. "Anything else?"

"Indeed so, Ratchet," Clank answered. "I have been reviewing the historical records, including those of the last selection."

"Reg won that," Ratchet chuckled, a bit louder than before.

"That is correct, Ratchet," Clank nodded. "He was one of the top five candidates, including Colonel Ember Caliber, Doctor Candice Tesseract, Jacek Calorimeter and Nigel Heliopause."

Ratchet knew Colonel Caliber and Jacek Calorimeter, of course. While he had never met Winston's mate in person, he knew that Candice 'Dice' Tesseract was one of the topmost scientists in the CALR and a member of the accreditation board for the Institute. Ratchet didn't remember her field offhand, though. Maybe astrophysics... Or was it neurobiology...? He turned to Talwyn. "Who's Nigel Heliopause?" She was far better at names than he was.

"You know Nigel," she said. "Or at least know of him. He's that solar wind surfer 'dude' that lives in Region 2. He's got that line of vidgames and spacewear. You know - those radiation trunks with the awful floral patterns... rebreathers, polarized starglasses..."

"That guy?" Ratchet asked. Now he recognized him - Nigel's fur was on nearly every teen extreme sport tabloid on the hyperband. He seemed a bit... well... flaky... to be prime minister. At least compared to Reg. Still, Ratchet had to admit that solar wind surfing looked like a lot of fun; he just hadn't bought the gear and tried it yet. "Reg actually beat 'im?" Given Nigel's popularity, it surprised Ratchet that Reg would defeat him in an election.

"Well, the lombaxes were technically still at war with Tachyon since the Flight," Talwyn pointed out. "I'm not surprised they went with someone smart instead of flashy. I can't see Nigel being much of a leader against the drophyds." Talwyn paused for a second and then added, "Plus, Nigel was probably a bit younger and less popular last time around."

"Indeed," Clank nodded. "Reg won both the popular tally and the selection."

At that comment, Talwyn and Ratchet both looked at each other and saw the same question form in each others' eyes. Talwyn waited, knowing that Ratchet would be forced to ask it eventually... "What do you mean, Clank?"

"The lombax selection of prime minister is accomplished in two distinct phases," Clank explained. "The first phase is a popular ballot, with all known lombaxes voting. Each vote is then used as a modifier in a random selection."

"Wait," Ratchet interrupted. "You mean the vote doesn't choose the prime minister?"

"Not directly," Clank clarified. "The final selection is a random process. The total number of votes each lombax receives during the first phase determines their probability of being selected."

Talwyn shook her head, laughing quietly. "Leave it to lombaxes to overcomplicate things..."

"No," Ratchet said. Putting his gloved hand on his chin, he began nodding. "It makes sense. Since the prime minister's supposed t' stir up trouble fer the council, why not make it more fun? This way, everyone's gotta shot at bein' picked!" He looked at Talwyn's immensely amused expressed. "I guess you'd have t' be a lombax t' understand it..."

"Ratchet is correct, Talwyn," Clank confirmed. "Every lombax receiving even a single vote is a potential candidate for becoming prime minister. While it is true that the number of votes from the popular selection controls the probability of being chosen, it is not a certainty. There have been a few notable exceptions, although not in recent history."

Talwyn looked around at the empty pedway and laughed nervously. "Maybe that's why no one's around. Given the lombax love of politics, maybe everybody's hiding, trying to keep a low profile so no one nominates them..."

Talwyn's voice trailed off in the unnatural stillness. Ratchet, Clank and Talwyn all stared at each other, and Ratchet's eyes went wide with horror. She was right! It made sense! The lombax began glancing around at the suddenly unfriendly buildings around them. An oppressive feeling began to grow on him - that he was in the sights of someone else's unseen targeting scope. And while it was not an unfamiliar feeling, Ratchet's fur bristled at the mere thought of it. And here they were, strolling around in the open, linking with people all over New Fastoon, drawing attention to themselves. Himself! _Oh no!_ And after attacking the defense shield last night... and winning! While planetary security items were not broadcast on the hyperband, by now a lot of people connected with the LDM knew about it, and knew who was behind it.

The sound of an avian in the distance caught their attention, probably originating from Azimuth Park. On a normal day, the sound would have been lost in the bustle of New Fastoon. Today, however, was no ordinary day.

"Perhaps we should return to the apartment as quickly as possible," Clank said, breaking the stifling stillness, his eyes fixed on Ratchet as his friend began to tremble.

Ratchet nodded, noticing that his hands were shaking. "Yeah, Clank." He summoned a teleporter pad. "Let's get outta here."

"Good idea," Talwyn echoed, her eyes also locked on Ratchet.

All three of them climbed onto the pad. Ratchet immediately thought of the safety of their apartment suite. The scanner arms shot up and they vanished.

* * *

Ratchet crouched low, his gloved left hand on the floor beside him to maintain his balance. His right arm and muzzle were deeply buried in the small chiller unit of their kitchenette, sifting through the sparse containers inside. There was not very much to choose from.

It had taken the lombax most of the afternoon to calm down from his moment of panic in the streets of New Fastoon, and it was only through a combination of Talwyn's affectionate hugs and struggling to defeat Clank in a vidgame that he was able to relax at all. Now that the afternoon was slowly dissolving to evening and the sun hung low on the eastern horizon, the lombax's thoughts could finally focus on more important matters: their missed lunch, now their early supper.

Talwyn was sitting at the kitchenette table, her eyes focused on her mate. She knew how much he hated politics, but she had never seen the lombax that scared in all the time she knew him. Even in the worst battles and most dangerous situations, Ratchet always held things together very well. Talwyn felt torn: while she knew that he would never _want_ to be prime minister, and she knew that Reg did a spectacular job, she had to admit that she thought Ratchet would probably be a really great choice... Of course, she could never tell Ratchet that - he would be horrified at the thought.

Clank was sitting on the couch, staring at a display pad in his hands, glancing up on occasion to look at his friends or to look out over the terrace towards the eastern horizon. He had continued his research on returning to the apartment, discovering that Selection Day required (by necessity) a complete civic shutdown, that the random selection would be performed at sunset, and that the new prime minister would be announced immediately afterward. While Clank did not feel overly nervous about the results, he was concerned about what Ratchet's reaction might be if the worst did occur.

Ratchet's voice, somewhat muffled and echoing because his muzzle was still inside the chiller, described to Talwyn their limited menu for the evening. "There's some... flatbread... nut putty... fruit jam... a leftover pteradon leg... something green 'n fuzzy that mighta been one o' Petrov's experiments..."

Talwyn interrupted him. "Toss it."

Ratchet pulled his head out of the chiller and looked at Talwyn quizzically. "Out?"

"Yeah."

The lombax looked almost disappointed. "Aw. I was kinda hopin' it would go sentient on us."

Talwyn glared at him. "Out!"

"Okay, okay," Ratchet replied, tossing the unopened container into the disposal for recycling. He resumed digging in the chiller. "Fruit juice... sparkling soda... more fruit juice... fizzy spirits... Uh, does capsaicin sauce count?"

"Not for dinner," Talwyn chuckled. "I'll have the pteradon."

"Okay," Ratchet said, reaching up and handing another sealed container to Talwyn. Turning back to the chiller, he leaped lightly to his feet, pulling out the flatbread, nut putty and jam for himself. The lombax put the items on the table, closed the chiller and sat down next to Talwyn. He opened the putty container, manifested his phase knife, set it to a wide, dull blade, and began spreading the smooth paste onto one slice of the flatbread.

"So what's next with the defense shield," Talwyn asked, opening her pteradon container.

Ratchet finished with the first slice of flatbread, reset the phase knife to clean it and started spreading fruit jam on another. "Waterman's patrolling fer now. I'm sure the CALR will wanna look at the satellites, maybe put in redundant power couplings." The lombax paused for a moment, licking the jam off the energy blade of the phase knife before shutting it off completely and placing it on the table. He resealed both containers, returned them to the chiller, and put the empty flatbread wrapper in the disposal. "Jason 'n his crews 'r patrollin', too."

Ratchet returned to the table, picked up his phase knife and stored it in his manifestor. After a moment, a box of stylus shavings materialized in his hand. Talwyn looked at him a little confused, but did not say anything at first. A disgusted look grew on her face as she watched the lombax dig out a handful of the sweetened cereal and sprinkle a thick layer over his sandwich, the cereal clinging to the moist putty and jam. Ratchet put away the box, put the two flatbreads filling sides together, and pressed down with his full upper body weight, smushing the sandwich together. There was a loud crunching noise.

Talwyn couldn't take it anymore. "Stylus Shavings?" she asked in a voice that reflected her skepticism over the lombax's planned meal.

"What?" Ratchet responded, sitting down next to her. "They're good. They'll make it crunchy."

Talwyn shook her head and mumbled 'males' under her breath. She glanced over at the chiller in the prep center. "We've got to stock that chiller better."

Ratchet picked up his sandwich. Some of the stylus shavings that had not completely adhered to the fillings tumbled out, scattering on the table. "We wouldn't use it," Ratchet answered. Then he took a bite of the sandwich. _CRUNCH_ (and very loud, crunchy chewing...) "It'd just go t' waste." _CRUNCH_

"Just some essentials," Talwyn clarified. "In case Jacek's is closed again."

"That's not that often," Ratchet said through his chewing.

Talwyn smiled. Looking at Ratchet, munching his makeshift supper, it struck her again how very... lombax... he was. Just like she told Sasha when the Phyronixes visited, right before they bonded: Ratchet was a prime example of the species, for good or ill. But as far as the chiller went... "You know what Petrov keeps saying," Talwyn said chuckling quietly.

Ratchet lowered his sandwich from his muzzle and said with her, "You've gotta be ready fer anything!" Both of them started laughing.

Talwyn recovered first, took a few bites of her pteradon. "I guess he'll be cooking tomorrow..." she sighed.

"Why does everyone keep sayin' it like that?" Ratchet protested.

"Because he's not that good yet," Talwyn answered quickly. "He's been practicing Nick's recipes, but let's face it, he's needs a lot more practice."

Ratchet had to admit that was true. Nicholas was still a far better cook than his father was. But at least Petrov was trying, and that was a lot more than the general had done for a very long time. "It's just steaks," he said. "How bad can he screw those up?"

"I don't wanna think about it!" Talwyn immediately replied. "He makes me long for Zephyr's cooking!"

As they had been talking, the sun had dipped below the eastern horizon, and the dusty rose and fiery colors of sunset filled the terrace and parts of the living suite. Clank looked up from his display tablet and stared at his friends for a few moments. He looked back down at the pad, locked the scrolling option in place, and climbed to his feet. Walking slowly to the kitchen table, there was a heavy tone in his voice as he announced, "The selection results have been published. Reg Solstice has been named Lombax Prime Minister for another term." He moved around the couch, approaching Talwyn's kitchenette chair.

Ratchet's mouth was full at the time, but he answered, "That's great!" spewing small bits of cereal in front of him. He swallowed, looked at the table and swept the crumbs off to the floor below. They had recently hired a tiny domestic drone that made a reasonable living cleaning up after the lombax. "I can't think of anyone better."

Talwyn turned to him, slapping his upper arm hard with the back of her gloved hand. "And you were soooo paranoid!" she said in a half angry, half mocking tone. "You got us so worked up." Clank shook his head and handed the display pad to her. "The universe doesn't revolve around you, you know. I'll bet you didn't even make the top five..."

Talwyn glanced down at the display pad and her face went very pale.

Ratchet started laughing. "No bet! Yer right. I..." The lombax saw her face, and his smile vanished. "What?"

She wordlessly handed the display tablet to her mate. Ratchet took it from her and quickly glanced down at the prominent lombax text displayed there. After about three very quick heartbeats, the lombax looked down at the pad again, his ears and tail drooping significantly. His eyes opened wide and got a rather wild look to them as he stared at the results, hoping that he had somehow misread them. A single whispered word finally emerged from his muzzle. "...nooo..."

* * *

**Reginald Solstice Selected As Prime Minister**

Popular Tally: 46,022 Total Selections Received

**Top Five Candidates by Popular Tally : Popular Tally : Probability of Selection**  
Ratchet Neutrino _(aka Ratchet of Veldin)_ : 25,714 : 55.87%  
**Reginald Solstice : 17,944 : 38.99%**  
Nigel Heliopause : 1,380 : 2.99%  
Candice Tesseract : 458 : 0.99%  
Nicholas Neutrino : 87 : 0.18%

[end.]


End file.
